


Somebody Like You

by Kerichi



Series: Severus Snape Stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 37,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: After tea leaves predict romance, Severus Snape makes a mocking wish on a falling star, speaking the words aloud to make sure they never come true.Another star falls.





	1. Falling Stars

 

_September, 1988 . . . ._

In a shadowy corner of the Three Broomsticks, Severus Snape sat alone at a table for two. He stared at the mug of tea Madam Rosmerta had plunked down in front of him. "I ordered Firewhiskey."  
  
"You've had enough. Drink a cup of tea and stagger on back to school."  
  
He straightened the shoulders that had formerly hunched over his empty glass. "I never stagger."  
  
She planted fists on her curvy hips. "Bully for you, but there's a first time for everything. I run this pub, and when I say you've had enough, you have. Drink up."  
  
Severus downed his tea in a long gulp.

The cheeky madam snatched his mug when he was finished. She peered at the leaves left in the bottom, tipping the mug so that he could look inside. "A guitar. My, my. New romance is on your horizon." She gave the table two sharp raps with her knuckles. "I'll be knocking on wood every day for your lady. She'll need it."  
  
His look of disgust earned a grin before Madam Rosmerta sashayed back to the bar. Severus picked up the mug and inspected the leaves. Bollocks. It really was a guitar. He drew upon his formidable will to rise to his feet and walk out the door without staggering once.  
  
As he trudged back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus wondered what new indignities he would have to endure during the coming term. It was his seventh as Potions Master. Hopefully his last. He'd waited long enough to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. He jeered at the cosmos, "Show me a sign."  
  
A star streaked a fiery path across the black sky.  
  
Was he supposed to make a wish on a falling star? He made his own luck, and besides, didn't Trelawney say if you spoke your wish aloud it wouldn't come true? He smirked. "Very well, I want a romance with the  _fortunate_  woman who enjoys potions, dungeons, and malevolent bats like me." That should ensure Rosmerta's Tasseomancy prediction would never happen.  
  
Another star fell. Good sign? Bad sign? Severus went inside to his quarters, where he immediately fell across his bed in a stupor.  
  
  
  
In the back of a London nightclub, a popular Canadian singer moved easily from group to group, shaking hands, kissing cheeks and charming everyone. The woman calling herself Lora recognised glamour when she saw it. The wizard posing as a Muggle used it to command attention and admiration, but glamour by itself wasn't enough to indict on Misuse of Magic. Travelling as a backing vocalist to the singer hadn't given her anything incriminating to report. It was time to move on. She said her goodbyes to the band, gave false promises to stay in touch, and headed for the door. Bryan would return home never knowing that she'd been working for the Auror Investigation Department.  
  
A hand clamped around Lora's wrist. Bryan yanked her into a private room. "A fan sent me a copy of your Ministry report. Thanks for giving me the all clear, but I feel like a fool for letting you in, and you're the one who's going to pay." He pushed her toward a group of scantily clad girls.  
  
One of the girls held a bottle of champagne like a Beater's bat. Lora regretted leaving her wand with a friend. "Look, there's been a mistake," she said, glancing from one angry face to another. Pain exploded in her skull and the world went black.  
  
When light penetrated her eyelids, she heard a soft "Meow" and cracked open a swollen eye. Her lips curved at the sight of the furry face close to hers. "Hello, kitty." The cat darted out of the alley. Lora slowly pushed herself to her feet, happy to be alive. She cradled her aching ribs and shuffled toward the road to hail a Squire Cab. It screeched to a halt by the kerb seconds after she raised her wand hand. She whispered an address and concentrated on not vomiting in the back of the cab during the few heartbeats it took to reach her destination.  
  
"No worries. I'm payin' it forward," the cabbie said when she asked him to wait for her to get his fare.  
  
He sped off, leaving her on the kerb in front of a row of derelict attached houses. She concentrated, and a new house materialised between numbers five and nine. On the door, a brass number seven gleamed. She staggered up the steps and knocked. After a moment, the door opened. "Goblin Green, my favourite," she said, gesturing towards the fresh paint.  
  
Clever eyes narrowed in a swarthy goblin face. She was sure the morning sun highlighted her every bruise. "Lorelei!" her friend exclaimed.  
  
"Hullo, Piper."  
  
He gently took her arm and led her through the cluttered lounge to the kitchen beyond. "Sit down before you fall down." Piper moved briskly around the small kitchen. He made tea and then lifted a large box onto the table. He ran a hand across the intricately carved top. "I knew you'd need this when you didn't turn up last night." He clucked his tongue. "I've worried these last seven summers that this would happen. Bound to, really, working for that lot."  
  
"They're the reason I met you," Lorelei said.  
  
"Lucky you did," Piper replied as he carefully examined her. "You were a good singer, my dear, but a horrible spy." He gave a bark of laughter, displaying a mouthful of sharp white teeth. "How you cried when you realised we'd charmed our posters to encourage attendance at our concerts!" He chuckled. "It broke your heart to think our little group might end up in Azkaban."  
  
"I confessed, we got rid of the evidence, and pledged eternal friendship."  
  
The two smiled for a moment at the memory.  
  
Piper said, "I'm no mediwizard, but I am a decent medic." He sniggered. "Goblins being so rebellious and all. So I can tell you right now that you're lucky this time. I expected multiple fractures of the nose and jaw, broken ribs."  
  
"I'll be fine."  
  
"After treatment. St. Mungo's would be best."  
  
"No."  
  
"Who did this to you? Was it the wizard?" Piper said with a growl.  
  
“His groupies.” She told him her tale of the final assignment gone wrong. He asked, "Was your precious referral worth it? And why in Hades are you smiling?"  
  
"Because of this." Lorelei opened her box and removed a flagon. She drank the clear liquid. "Abeyance Potion temporarily suspends pain. Don't worry," she said. "I'll head straight to the mediwitch once I arrive." She took out her wand and a cloak. "And I'll hide my face until it's healed."  
  
  
  
In the darkness of his bedchamber, Severus groaned. He opened a bloodshot eye to peer blearily at the timepiece that seemed to be doubled, or perhaps tripled. Damnation. Only a few precious hours left before the school was besieged by a legion of cheeky snot rags. There was no time to be lying about. When he lifted his head, however, the room spun wildly. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes until the rising flood of nausea subsided. His hands clenched the coverlet in frustration. The body's temporary mastery over the mind was insupportable.  
  
"Slinky!" he bellowed as loudly as his aching head would permit.  
  
"Yes, Master?"  
  
The Slytherin house-elf clambered out of the fireplace and hurried across the room to stand by the bed. If Severus didn't know better, he would think that the elf was amused. "Bring me Nauseous No More and Equilibrium potions, a pitcher of water and a glass of orange juice."  
  
Instantly, a silver carafe, a glass of orange juice, and two flagons materialised on the bedside table. Severus drank the potions, the juice, and then refilled the glass with water. "Fetch my breakfast while I shower, and don't forget the paper. I want the  _Daily Prophet_ only. I wouldn't line a flobberworm box with  _The Quibbler."_  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"I've told you repeatedly not to call me 'Master.' I am merely the Head of House." Hogwarts elves were free.  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
Severus almost asked if Slinky's former master had given him clothing out of spite. "Go."  
  
The sight of his unshaven image in the bathroom mirror brought a smirk to Severus's face. "What woman in her right mind would be attracted to you?" His reflection raised a satiric brow in answer. Severus said, "Right. A barmy one."


	2. First Impressions

 

_"Good afternoon."_  
  
Severus looked up from his lesson plans. "Perhaps for those who enjoy having their lives invaded by barbarian children. Certainly not for anyone else."  
  
Albus Dumbledore smiled benignly—his happiness and light version of a smirk—and sat in one of Severus's office chairs. "I've been meaning to have a chat with you about your new  _research_  projects. How are they progressing?"  
  
"Slowly. Certain things take time, just as certain potions take time to reach efficacy. "  
  
"Ah, well, it's a good thing you'll be teaching less this year. You'll have plenty of time to devote to your extra-curricular activities."  
  
A muscle twitched in Severus’s jaw. "I've been meaning to speak with you about that," he said. "You've made a unilateral decision."  
  
"You'll thank me later."  
  
"I very much doubt it."  
  
"Care to place a small wager?"  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes. "What stakes?"  
  
"Complete freedom to update potions stores with any items you wish against a pair of warm socks."  
  
_No budget?_  "Agreed, but the odds and prizes appear heavily in my favour."  
  
"Appearances are deceiving."  
  
Dumbledore's smile made Severus wonder what the wily old bastard knew that made him irritatingly confident of winning.  
  
  
  
Lorelei stepped out of the fireplace in the Hog's Head Inn and clutched the fabric of her cloak tightly at the neck to keep her face hidden.  
  
"Two drink minimum," the barman said. He wiped the bar top with a filthy rag.  
  
She tossed three Galleons onto the bar. Outside, she checked her watch. The Hogwarts Express should be pulling into the station. A Disillusionment Charm would allow her to ride on the unmanned driver's box of one of the carriages. She didn't have the energy to walk from the village to the school. It took all her concentration to Apparate.  
  
As the coaches approached the castle, Lorelei admired the turrets and towers. She had fond memories of visiting the school in summer as a child. Her mother and Dumbledore remained friends after their professional relationship was over, and Marina had brought Lorelei on a couple of her short visits.  
  
The coaches rolled to a stop. Lorelei watched the students make their way to the castle. She climbed gingerly down from the box but didn’t follow the crowd. On the steps, a wizard stood like an imposing statue. His mere presence kept the children in order. After a time, the last of the students entered the school. The wizard lingered, walking out of the shadows and into the revealing torchlight. He was tall and slender, with shoulder length black hair and a hawk-like nose. The evening breeze rippled his robes and hair. He curled his mouth in a slight sneer. Lorelei forgot to breathe. He was Heathcliff, Mr. Rochester, and Max de Winter: the personification of Gothic romance. She felt like Wendy seeing Captain Hook for the first time. She was entranced. A strange longing welled up inside her, an aching yearning to hear his voice. The feeling was so overwhelming, she sighed.  
  
"Is anyone there?" the wizard asked in a voice that matched the velvet sky.  
  
She froze. He gave a last piercing look around and entered the castle. Lorelei shadowed his steps and observed him speak briefly to Argus Filch before he strode into the Great Hall.  
  
Lorelei walked away from the sounds of students preparing to enjoy the feast.  
  
"Keep your eyes peeled, Mrs. Norris," Filch said. "Professor Snape asked us to make sure no one's sneaking 'round the corridors up to mischief." He paused to chortle nastily. "Let's keep searching, my sweet."  
  
Lorelei ducked into the nearest classroom. Inside, a mischievous poltergeist was gleefully dumping out wastepaper bins. She countered the Disillusionment Charm. "Stop making noise! Filch will hear!"  
  
"My, my, it's Lorelei!" Peeves sang out. He zoomed over, dark eyes gleaming in wicked merriment. "You look worse than the Bloody Baron."  
  
"That's why I need you to do me a favour so I can drag myself off to the Hospital Wing."  
  
Peeves cackled. Probably at the thought of what he would ask in return for doing her a favour. Lorelei and Peeves had only truly become acquainted a few weeks earlier. When she had brought her belongings and classroom equipment to Hogwarts during summer break, she'd asked Dumbledore to keep her visit a secret. He had admonished the terrible tattler to do the same. Amazingly, Peeves had actually kept quiet. He'd heard Lorelei sing in her classroom and proposed a deal. He would spare her his usual antics if she would sing drinking songs with him. Somewhere during the chorus of 'Whiskey before Breakfast' they became friends.  
  
"I want a new song!" Peeves replied gleefully.  
  
"I need you to go rattle the armour near the Entry Hall, so Filch runs to you and away from me. I'll give you part of a song now and the rest later." The Abeyance Potion was starting to wear off.  
  
"I make Filch and his nasty cat mad and I get a song!" Peeves zipped around the room in manic joy before demanding. "Sing!"  
  
She sang the beginning of the Muggle song  _Streams of Whiskey._  


  
  
Another year, another hopeful appointed to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Severus barely listened to Eustace Prigg's introduction. The doomed man would be gone by the end of the year. The announcement of a second addition to their staff gained his complete attention.  
  
"Professors Snape and Binns are in need of more time for research, so Professor Lorelei will be teaching their first through third-years classes." Dumbledore, after a brief glance at the empty chair by Hagrid, said, "Unfortunately, Professor Lorelei was unable to attend tonight's feast as she is temporarily indisposed." He pressed on with the rest of the welcome speech.  
  
Severus withdrew from the Hall as soon as possible and headed toward the Hospital Wing. An indisposed new professor equalled a mystery he was determined to solve. If anything of the slightest import occurred at Hogwarts, Severus made sure he knew about it. The students claimed he read minds, but no Legilimency was required to know what most of the students were thinking. Every thought they had was immediately projected through their facial expressions and body language. They knew nothing about self-control.  
  
He turned at the sound of someone clearing his throat. It was Filch. Severus lifted a brow as the toadying Squib and his cat approached. They both looked grey and grim. Did they roll about in dust? Severus hid his distaste, coolly waiting for the man to speak.  
  
"We almost caught someone sneakin' about during the feast," Filch said, "but that Peeves tricked us and let them get away!"  
  
"Very well," said Severus. "Go on about your patrol." He inclined his head slightly in dismissal and resumed his journey.  
  
Inside the Hospital Wing, he approached the curtains surrounding a bed at the end of the room. Madam Pomfrey seldom isolated a patient. He wanted to know what merited this patient's seclusion. He strolled forward, briefly considered, and then rejected the impulse to leave the woman to her privacy.  
  
  
  
Lorelei heard a soft swish. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up; someone peered at her through the opening in the curtain. It wasn't the brusque mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey. Whoever it was stared with such intensity that she could physically feel it. She sat on the bed facing away from the curtain, with only the sheet around her hips to preserve her modesty. She held both arms up, keeping her hair out of the mixture healing her back.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked a male voice that resonated through her body.  
  
It was Professor Snape, the Gothic Hero. Lorelei felt both thrilled and unnerved. She said, "I'm practising. If anyone needs a model to sculpt a Greek goddess, I'll be ready."  
  
"Which goddess? Aphrodite?"  
  
The sneer in his voice as he derided the goddess of love amused her. "No," she said, "Persephone. I've always fancied Hades."  
  
"The god the other gods avoid, not even mentioning his name for fear they attract his unwanted attention."  
  
"I'd want his attention."  
  
"Would you?" The man's silky voice was closer. Was he inside the curtain now?  
  
" _Professor Snape!_ " Madam Pomfrey's voice quivered with indignation. "Professor Lorelei is in no condition to be carrying on with you, I mean, carrying on a conversation!"  
  
Lorelei bit her lip to stifle a laugh.  
  
Madam Pomfrey said, "I must ask you to leave."  
  
"Unless you're volunteering to help," Lorelei said. "It's time to put that gook on my front side."  
  
Madam Pomfrey spluttered.  
  
Professor Snape said, "I'll leave you in capable hands."  
  
Lorelei shivered. What a voice. She remained lost in thought until Madam Pomfrey started dabbing healing mixture on her face. "This stuff is miraculous," Lorelei said. "What do you call it?"  
  
"The official name is Urgent Unguent." Madam Pomfrey smiled a little. "I call it 'gook'."   


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Lorelei sings for Peeves is Streams of Whiskey by the Celtic punk band The Pogues.


	3. Reality Bites

 

Lorelei was pleased with the changes she'd made to the infamous Dungeon Five classroom. The chamber still looked like a dungeon, with smooth stone floors and walls and enchanted torches. Those were things she would never change, even if she could. She still experienced a Gothic thrill every time she descended shadowy steps. Even so, there had been plenty of room for improvement.  
  
Lighting was first on the list. Natural sunlight ruined many delicate potions and ingredients, which made dungeons ideal laboratories. Regardless, that was no excuse for tolerating an unsafe learning environment. She wondered how many students had added the wrong ingredient or an ingredient at the wrong time due to insufficient light. Thanks to an intricate charm gleaned from  _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions_ , Dungeon Five now boasted narrow rectangular windows placed high in the walls to let in what appeared to be natural sunlight.  
  
The other major improvement was the removal of a collection of pickled animals that had floated in glass jars around the room. Convinced they were the evidence of a disturbed mind, Lorelei gladly relocated them to a storage cabinet in another dungeon. The layout of the room remained the same. Twenty large tables stood ready for cauldrons, brass scales and numerous ingredients and implements.  
  
  
  
Tight lipped, Severus waited impatiently for his last class to put their attempted potions on his desk and leave. The students had been unusually quiet that lesson as if attuned to his dangerous mood. His temper had steadily deteriorated over the course of the day. Professor Lorelei was a mystery he hadn't solved, and he was not pleased. First, she had missed the feast by being indisposed. When confronted, the woman had boldly refused to answer his questions. Instead, she had flirted—and he knew when a woman was flirting. He'd been subjected to attempts by most of the witches on staff, although he did not delude himself about the nature of their attraction. He and the Ancient Runes professor were the only adult males under forty.  
  
Severus exited his classroom and stalked toward dungeon number five. At lunch, he had waited for Professor Lorelei to show her face only to wait in vain. He would wait no longer to confront the source of his irritation. She would answer his questions, and he would evaluate her teaching. If either her answers or her abilities were unsatisfactory, he would have her dismissed.  
  
He swept into Dungeon Five and halted, noticing several things at once. Lorelei was not in the classroom. Some sort of enchanted windows filled the dungeon with light. Every surface gleamed. The floating specimens had been removed. Was this a dungeon or tea room? Everything on her desk appeared to be arranged in a precise manner. The last pencil was out of sync with its neighbours by a few millimetres. Disdainfully, he pushed the offensive item into perfect alignment. A noise from the storeroom prompted him to cast a Disillusionment Charm and stand in the back of the dungeon.  
  
  
  
Lorelei drank the Temporary Aging Potion and grimaced. Why did sugar ruin the potions that needed it most? She assessed her reflection in her tiny cosmetic mirror. She looked like her mother. Oh well, as long as she didn't start acting like Marina. Lorelei smiled at herself and then looked away hurriedly. She was getting the creeps.  
  
The sound of students arriving brought her into the classroom. She marvelled at how young the first-years looked. They seemed surprised that they didn't get to make a potion the first day, a simple solution to cure boils.  
  
She patiently explained why that wasn't a good idea. Did they know how many students added porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Well, the ones who did took a trip to the Hospital Wing. After their cauldron melted and their potion gave them boils. It amused her how students concentrated on correct laboratory procedure once they knew the consequences. They learned to weigh nettles exactly and crush snake fangs precisely. She assured them that next class they would make the Boil Solution with confidence that would grow throughout the year.  
  
"And one day, you may brew potions like this." Lorelei pulled a small vial from her robes and drank it. The wide-eyed expressions on their faces told her when the counter potion took effect. A few students gasped and made her day. She told them that none of her students had ever harmed themselves or others, and she would take House points and give detentions if that would help concentration and application. Her students left quietly, promising to study for the next lesson.  
  
The silence was broken by the mocking sound of slow clapping.  
  
  
  
Severus seethed. He had watched that woman give her lesson and grudgingly admitted that she was a competent, if coddling teacher. She appeared to be an attractive older woman with dark eyes and spiraled curls. He started to regret not assisting Madam Pomfrey in the care of her patient. Then Lorelei drank the counter potion. Reality set in. She was his age or younger, with the allure of a siren trying to lure him and every other man to their doom. He would not be lured.  
  
"Who's there?" Lorelei asked.  
  
Severus appeared in front of her. "I hope you've enjoyed your first day at Hogwarts," he said. "If I have anything to say about it, your first day will be your last. You are completely  _unsuited_  to teaching impressionable minds, and I am informing the Headmaster of my findings immediately. I suggest you get a house-elf to pack your things."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"We shall see."  
  
  
  
"Toffee, Severus?" Dumbledore asked after Severus had finished speaking. "No? Very well. I understand your reservations. However, I will not dismiss Professor Lorelei. I personally approved her curriculum and she was not lying about her record."  
  
"How can that be possible? Where did she teach?" Another thought struck. "Is Lorelei her first or last name?"  
  
"Inconsequential, compared to your lack of trust in my judgment." Dumbledore leaned forward. "I will share my reasons for hiring Professor Lorelei in strictest confidence."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Dumbledore said, "Lorelei's mother is an old friend of mine, and I would not willingly hurt her daughter without cause. Furthermore," he said with a brief hesitation, "her nomination came directly from the Ministry."  
  
Severus's nostrils flared. "I thought the Ministry had no influence at this school. Evidently, sentiment and self-interest have clouded your judgment." Severus made to leave. At the door he turned and said, "Thankfully,  _my_  judgment cannot be clouded. If Lorelei steps one foot wrong, she will regret it."   


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who is reading. The amazing author Ursula K. LeGuin said, "The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it alive: a live thing, a story."


	4. Good Mornings

 

 

Severus felt unwell. He was  _never_  ill, so the uneasy feeling must be a result of the insidious pattern that had somehow evolved over the last few weeks. At the beginning, one small change in his normal routine had not seemed insupportable. Severus considered himself to be a flexible man. He had thought that he could ignore the slight disturbance to his usual habit and carry on as before.  
  
He had been proven wrong.  
  
For more years than he cared to admit, Severus had made a concentrated effort to rise early enough to dine alone in the Great Hall. The solitary time he spent reading the paper and enjoying a leisurely breakfast helped him endure the rest of the day. His morning meal was still quiet, but now a bigger distraction than noisy students ruined his peace each morning.  
  
"Good Morning."  
  
Ah, here was the distraction now. Every day she said the same greeting with the same lilt in her voice. How surprising. Well, if it was predictability she wanted, he would oblige. "Is it?" Severus asked coolly, raising an eyebrow. As always, the look he gave the impossible woman should have depressed her pretensions.  
  
"It is now," Lorelei said before moving along to her place near the end of the staff table.  
  
The reply was something new. Usually she just smiled. The siren was becoming bolder. She probably thought that since he did not explicitly reject her overtures, it meant that he covertly welcomed them. Irrational woman. If she wanted to consider his responses as more than polite indifference, then that was her folly. He reached for his mug of tea, using the movement to conceal his sideways glance. Yes, she was up to her normal antics. Did she think her sidelong gazes were undetected? If so, she was badly mistaken. She may have hidden her interest from the others, but Severus sensed every clandestine glance Lorelei threw his way. Resolutely showing no interest, he continued reading and eating as though he were blessedly alone.  
  
"Bye."  
  
With a carefully contrived glance of mild inquiry, Severus looked up into Lorelei's face. He lifted both brows, saying nothing. He watched a smile twitch her full lips and inclined his head in barely civil dismissal. Her eyes gleamed with suppressed laughter. He turned his attention back to his paper. Daft woman. Was there no discouraging her?  
  
_Do you want to discourage her?_  
  
Where had that thought come from? Of course he wanted Lorelei to stop watching his every movement. Even more, he wanted to stop feeling compelled to watch hers. Severus found himself secretly observing her expressions and listening to her conversations. If only she were not so attractive. If only she were not attracted to him. He was so tempted.  
  
No. He was  _not_  tempted. Even if he were, he would do nothing about it, and Lorelei would turn her attentions elsewhere. Smalley was already begging to tell her fortune with runes. One day she would let him. Severus told himself he would be relieved even as he glared at a hungry student who had dared enter the Hall.  
  
As he headed to his classroom, students fell over each other to get out of his way. He opened the door to his dungeon with such force that the reverberations caused several jars of pickled creatures to crash to the floor. An early Gryffindor student entered the room and immediately started to gag. Severus watched the boy lose his struggle to ignore the smell and keep the contents of his stomach. Humour restored, Severus used a Vanishing Charm to clear the mess and proceeded to deduct a record number of House points.  
  
  
  
After the evening meal, Lorelei brought a potion to Professor Snape's quarters. The painting guarding the entrance revealed a medieval couple on a boat. A castle and Cornish cliffs stood in the background, while in the foreground a woman dressed in a fine red gown and wimple and gave a chalice to a knight in armour. On the bench behind them was flagon filled with a red potion. The couple broke off staring into each other's eyes to smirk at Lorelei. They weren't admitting her without a password.  
  
" _Tristan and Isolde with the Potion._ " Snape's voice was a raspy whisper behind her.  
  
Lorelei turned to see the professor. He looked tired, with glassy eyes and a reddened nose. He shivered. She handed him the flagon. "Dumbledore asked me to give this to you."  
  
"Pepperup Potion. My favourite."  
  
Was he joking? He really was sick. She should go and let him get some rest. "That's a lovely painting," Lorelei said.  
  
The couple preened.  
  
"It's an example of Dumbledore's asinine humour." Snape's lips quirked slightly. "My painting is almost as puerile as yours."  
  
Lorelei glanced down the corridor to the painting guarding the entrance to her own quarters.  _The Siren_  displayed a woman with long dark hair sitting on a rock above the sea. A man in the water placed an outstretched hand on the rock as if to pull himself up. The couple looked over and waved. Lorelei was quite familiar with the painting. Collecting this type of art was a pastime in her family.  
  
"Paintings like that give Sirens a bad name," she said.  
  
"Do they?" Snape's gaze was intent. She wondered if he could perform Legilimency without a wand. He asked, "Have you read the poem  _Die Lorelei?_ "  
  
"If it's in German, no."  
  
"There are English translations," Snape said. "I'll save you the bother of looking. The poem reads: In throes of desire and love, he's blind to the reefs that surround him. He sees but the maiden above. And now wild waters awaken, then the boat and boatman are gone. And this is what with her singing, the Lorelei has done."  
  
He'd memorised it. Why? For a long moment, she searched his fathomless gaze. "Are you saying...you honestly believe...I lure men to their doom?"  
  
"I believe you have the ability," Snape said before leaving her standing alone in the corridor.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The paintings are both by the British artist John William Waterhouse. The poem Die Lorelei was written by Heinrich Heine. When I wrote "Good morning," I thought of Gandalf saying, "What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" It's true for witches and hobbits. :)


	5. Illuminating Conversations

 

"My Inner Eye senses that someone will be late for the staff meeting!"  
  
All faces turned toward Sybill Trelawney. Severus ignored the scatterbrained woman seated a few chairs away. It was apparent to anyone who bothered to look that only one professor was not present in the staff lounge.  
  
He idly listened to the conversations around him. Professor Flitwick was trying to convince Professor Smalley to accompany him when Gaelic Uprising played in Hogsmeade. Severus's upper lip curled. The name sounded more like a Goblin rebellion than a musical group.  
  
Dumbledore's move to stand beside the fireplace captured everyone's attention. As the Headmaster prepared to start the meeting, the latecomer rushed through the doorway. Professor Lorelei moved toward the empty chair on his Severus's left. He pretended to focus intently on Dumbledore's response to various comments on progress and policies. Under the pretext of adjusting his robes, he stealthily observed the woman now sitting next to him. She appeared in good health. When she had not attended meals the previous day, the staff had speculated that she was ill. Severus knew otherwise. She had avoided him. He'd told himself it was for the best. He did not miss her distracting presence. He had extinguished her inconvenient attraction, and he was satisfied.  
  
_And yet . . . ._  
  
She was tilting her head slightly, giving the appearing of listening attentively to Dumbledore's remarks. From the corner of his eye, Severus caught Lorelei's smile. His fleeting look met hers. He immediately gave Dumbledore's closing comments about the upcoming Hogsmeade Weekend his utmost attention. No need to encourage continued flirtation.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
Severus looked up. The meeting was over and Professor Lorelei was standing in preparation to leave. He faced her impassively. He would not reply.  
  
"Is it?" Apparently, his voice of reason had been told to shove off by something he bloody well refused to identify.  
  
"I told myself it wasn't," she said. "I thought it was horrid and I wasn't going to care about it anymore." Her smile was self-deprecating. "But I do care."  
  
She did? Not that it influenced him in any way. "Good morning," he said and left.  
  
  
  
Lorelei took heart that he hadn't said that he didn't care. Her heart plunged later when, halfway up the flight of steps from the dungeon, her right foot sank down into the step and became trapped. She heard a wicked cackle and knew at once who was responsible.  
  
" _Lorelei told a lie, Lorelei told a lie,_ " the mischievous poltergeist sang over and over as he wheeled overhead. Students halted on the steps to see what was happening.  
  
"I didn't lie to you," Lorelei told the ghost now floating upside down in front of her. "You never showed up for me to finish the song."  
  
"Technicality!" Peeves screeched.  
  
The students leaving Professor Snape's last morning class joined their counterparts already watching the scene. Lorelei cringed as she heard students at the top of the stairs call out to friends passing by. The corridor leading to the Great Hall jammed with curious faces. She tried to bargain. "I'll sing you the song tonight, but you have to let me go now."  
  
"Not until you sing, Lore-liar!"  
  
" _What_ is going on here?" Snape's voice cowed the crowd to near silence. He waded through the sea of students to Lorelei.  
  
She wished the trick step had swallowed her entire body. "I can handle the situation."  
  
"Willoughby?" Snape said.  
  
A Slytherin boy near the top step answered, "She promised Peeves a song and didn't deliver."  
  
"It isn't that simple," she said.  
  
Snape turned to Peeves. "Will you agree to release the professor after one song?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Snape told Lorelei, "This school adheres to a strict code of honour. I suggest you lead by example. Sing whatever song you rashly promised and allow the rest of us to get on with our day." His tone became silky. "Or do you  _enjoy_  being the centre of attention?"  
  
Taken at face value, the speech was a verbal slap in the face. Lorelei flushed with humiliation. Then she took a closer look into his glittering eyes. He was goading her to act. Somehow, he knew that embarrassment and uncertainty were paralysing her. He was giving her a way out of this farce if she was woman enough to take it.  
  
She resolved that she was.  
  
At the end of  _Streams of Whiskey_  she was freed from the step. The flow of young people moving up and out to the Great Hall resumed. A few called out that they liked her song. She said thanks and continued to stand beside Snape. Eventually, he returned her scrutiny. She decided to be bold. "Thank you, Severus."  
  
Silence. And then, "You're welcome, Lorelei."  
  
Never had the use of first names affected her so deeply. She felt like a Victorian ready to swoon. She asked, "Would you like to have lunch with me in the kitchen?"  
  
"The hordes in the Great Hall will have to be braved eventually."  
  
That wasn't why she wanted them to eat in private, but if Severus wasn't ready to call a date a date, Lorelei would play along. "By dinner there will be a new scandal."  
  
"Hmmm. Perhaps in this case discretion is the better part of valour." He stiffly offered his arm.  
  
Lorelei grinned like the fool he probably thought she was and placed her hand upon his sleeve.  
  
  
  
On Saturday, Lorelei strolled past the line of students waiting for Filch to verify their permission slips. The young people chatted about all the things they would do once they reached the village. She heard one boy mention Zonko's Joke Shop, an excellent place for her to find her cousin's son a birthday present. Cousin Ariel sent Howlers to any relative who forgot to pay tribute to her precious only child. Her blackmail was effective. Glaucus had more toys than he could possibly play with. Lorelei chose to comply passive aggressively. She sent presents that Glaucus loved and Ariel hated.  
  
She breathed in the clear, cool, October air and thought about the meal she had shared with Severus. They hadn't talked much, but just sitting across a table with him was romantic. While they ate, she had casually mentioned that she looked forward to the weekend and having a drink at the Three Broomsticks once the students returned to Hogwarts. Severus hadn't responded to the veiled invitation, but she was hopeful that he would find his way there.  
  
Later that afternoon, she stopped by the Owl Post Office to send her young cousin Whizzing Worms and Belch Powder before heading to the Three Broomsticks. The streets of Hogsmeade glowed golden in the fading sunlight. Lorelei gazed appreciatively at the picturesque thatched shops and homes. Many of the cottages had wreaths of vine and leaves upon their doors, and a few spectacularly decorated homes were worthy of _Bewitching Homes and Gardens_. Her favourite cottage had children playing in the front yard, jumping into enchanted piles of leaves. The magicked piles gathered themselves back together after each jump scattered the leaves. She waved at the children and strolled on.  
  
In the Three Broomsticks, the students had gone back to school and only adults remained. She removed her cloak, took a seat at the bar and asked Madam Rosmerta for a Butterbeer. Students drank it, so it must be good.  
  
"How are you and Professor Snarky getting along?" Madam Rosmerta asked as she handed Lorelei a warm mug.  
  
"I think Professor Snape and I rub along quite well, considering." Lorelei felt her face heat as she told herself to stop thinking of rubbing along Severus. She drank the Butterbeer and asked for another. The frothy drink had a lovely butterscotch aftertaste.  
  
Hamish and Fiona, the couple sitting next to her, ran the village bookshop and the sports equipment shop. They chatted with her and Madam Rosmerta about the upcoming festival. Lorelei had another Butterbeer. After she finished it, she asked Fiona, "D'you notice the drinks taste funny?"  
  
Madam Rosmerta said, "There's a small amount of alcohol in Butterbeer. Are you sensitive?"  
  
" _Well_..." Lorelei placed a finger to her lips. "I don' usually share my fam'ly hist'ry, but if you promise not to tell." She waited for the couple and Madam Rosmerta to promise and said, "Y'know my mum works for Siren Cosmetics?"  
  
They hadn't.  
  
"It's one of the fam'ly corporations...y'know...Sirens?" Lorelei waved her hands about airily. "Not 'lot of booze in the ocean. Low alcohol tolerance s'practially a fam'ly trait." Of both her mother and father's families, come to think of it. "Sad, that."  
  
"You don't look sad," Madam Rosmerta said.  
  
"That's 'cause I'm happy." Professor Snarky had entered the pub. She watched him glide through the crowd to sit at a table in a shadowed corner of the room. She tossed her cloak over her arm and said, "Gotta talk to a Severus about a Snape."  
  
  
  
Severus traced a fingertip around the rim of his glass of Firewhiskey as he tracked Lorelei's sauntering progression to his table. His voice of reason had recommended staying home with a good book in lieu of keeping this ridiculous assignation. He hadn't said yes, after all. He merely hadn't said no. Perhaps he should feel uneasy at how often he ignored his voice of reason, but he wasn't. He was too preoccupied with wondering what to do with the woman who had plopped into the chair next to his.  
  
"Hiya, Severus."  
  
He asked, "Have you been drinking?"  
  
"How'd you know? Wait. I gotta do somethin'." Lorelei tapped their heads gently with her wand.  
  
He felt nothing.  
  
"Obfuscation Charm. Nosy friends won't be watching private conversations like Muggle telly now, will they?"  
  
"You're referring to the entire pub?"  
  
"Yeah to the referring, and  _yeah_  to the drinking. Only accidentally, the drinking part. No way Ros could'a known about the Siren/alcohol thingy."  
  
Ha. He'd been right all along. She was a Siren. He contemplated the woman gazing at him with a dreamy expression. He was sorely tempted to take advantage of the situation. Regretfully, taking physical advantage was out of bounds. Severus decided anything else was fair game. "Where did you attend school?"  
  
"Didn't. Didn't attend any school." At his look of disbelief, Lorelei giggled. "I sat my exams at Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons, but I never attended anywhere. We were always moving. I received an excellent education," she said. "Marina was a muse for loads of brilliant wizards, and I did correspondence courses." Her voice grew louder. Indignant. "I'm a good teacher. No trainee lab accidents, seven years running."  
  
"I believe you." She instantly cheered. He asked, "What lab?"  
  
"Siren Cosmetics."  
  
Severus was at a loss. He'd imagined her one of those popular girls who went with the captain of the Quidditch team. Discovering that she had never had a normal school life made him feel something uncomfortable. He asked, "How on earth have you managed to teach without accidents?"  
  
Lorelei's face lit up. "I invented a Cauldron Charm based on a Muggle traffic light. Green glow, good potion; yellow glow, fix something fast; Red glow - _Evanesco!_ "  
  
"Why haven't you patented the charm?" Severus couldn't understand why she would teach instead of making Galleons off her invention.  
  
"I have." Lorelei scooted her chair closer to whisper, "Ministry gave me a proviso patent. Can't manufacture it, might upset the economy. D'you know how many factories make cauldrons?"  
  
"No. How many?"  
  
"Dunno. That's why I asked you!" Lorelei grinned.  
  
He decided to accompany her back to Hogwarts before she realised that he had gained information while she had learnt nothing more about him. He rose and extended his arm in the gesture that had made her grin like a fool after the episode with Peeves. How surprising, she was grinning like a fool again. A tempting fool, whose lips parted in invitation.  
  
"May I escort you back to the castle?" Severus forced himself to ask calmly, indifferently.  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
Severus helped Lorelei into her cloak, and together they made their way into the night.   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the wizarding world can have Veelas who are reminiscent of Greek sirens, it can have Sirens who interbred with humans enough to lose fish scales and crow wings (and the ability to wreck sailors), but kept the low alcohol tolerance. Severus is congratulating himself that he was right about Lorelei, but before he meant siren, metaphorically, not Siren literally. :D


	6. Jumping In

 

On the walk back to Hogwarts, Lorelei’s alcohol-induced giddiness slowly faded. In its place was a happiness that required no chemical enhancement. Severus had offered his arm again outside the Three Broomsticks, and they still walked connected with her hand upon his forearm. In a daring move, she slid her fingers down his sleeve and gently took his hand in hers. He stopped and gazed thoughtfully at their entwined fingers and then resumed walking without comment, using his wand light to guide their way. Lorelei grinned at the night sky. She felt like singing.  
  
"Is this something you do often?"  
  
Severus's question brought Lorelei back to herself. She had sung, " _On this night of a thousand stars_ " aloud. "Yes."  
  
"You have . . . eclectic . . . tastes in music."  
  
"It comes from working with musicians." She took Severus's silence as interest and said as they ambled, "I'll give you the condensed version.  _Once upon a time_ , a naive girl met a man at one of her mother's parties. The girl had just turned nineteen and wasn't having any luck getting a teaching position." Lorelei made a face. "The man, Vaughn, expressed sympathy that Dumbledore would require seven years of experience." She paused. "With me so far?"  
  
"Pray continue."  
  
"All right. Vaughn confided that he worked for the Auror Investigation Department and was looking for someone  _exactly like_  this girl to help with a special project."  
  
"Someone young and inexperienced?"  
  
His sarcastic tone made her smile. "Well, yes, and the girl thought that working for the Investigation Department in trade for their nomination for a teaching position was a good deal. It was supposed to be easy. Sing a bit. Hang out with musicians for a few weeks every summer."  
  
"Provide information enabling the Ministry to press Illegal Use of Magic charges."  
  
That sounded so bad. Did he despise her for it? She waited for him to let go of her hand. He didn't.  
  
He said, "You may have heard rumours as to my prior association with He Who Must Not Be Named. They are true. I have worked for an even more despicable group than the Ministry." Severus looked intently into her eyes. "I live with regrets, and I will continue to make restitution wherever I can, but I have moved on." He moved closer. So close, she could feel the warmth of his skin. Lorelei's heart raced in anticipation. He bent his head. She lifted her mouth, parting her lips.  
  
He straightened.  
  
A flush burned its way up her chest to her face. She pulled her hand from his and walked off the path. He followed her. Was he worried that she was going to do something rash? She was. She continued her march to the lake.  
  
  
  
Severus hadn't meant to reject Lorelei. He had intended to kiss those uplifted lips, but had turned aside in fear. People he cared about died. The despicable group he had mentioned still existed. They believed he worked for their interests, although Dumbledore knew differently. Severus no longer felt as if his soul had died in Godric's Hollow; that was what he'd meant by moving on. He would never escape his need to atone for the past. His failure to save the woman he’d loved would haunt him until his last breath.  
  
Lorelei threw her cloak onto a rock on the shore and proceeded to remove her jumper as well.  
  
He said, "Stop that at once!"  
  
She ignored his command and bent to remove her boots. The sight of Lorelei removing her trousers to reveal more black lace mobilized Severus into speech. "Do not even _consider_ —"  
  
"You practically told me to go jump in the lake," Lorelei said. "Don't blame me for taking you up on it." She waded through the dark shallows and dived into the deeper water. She came to the surface laughing. "You should see your face! Did you think I threw myself in to let the Giant Squid end my misery?" Apparently, making a fool of him had restored her good humour. She called, "Come on in, the water's fine if you use a Warming Charm."

She didn't expect him to join her, which is why he removed his robes and shirt and placed them on the cloak by Lorelei's scattered things. He took off his shoes, placed his socks inside the footwear, and added the items to the pile before strolling across the grass and into the water.  
  
  
  
Lorelei no longer needed a Warming Charm after watching Severus undress. Her body was burning. Every nerve was acutely aware of the man swimming closer, and the butterflies that had previously fluttered in her middle now whirled madly. She glanced up at the stars twinkling in the night sky and shining upon the lake and giggled.  
  
"What's so amusing?"  
  
She swam toward him. "The stars really are like diamonds in the sky."  
  
His look of amusement ended the moment she moulded her body to his. His hands slid tentatively around her, his eyes constantly evaluating her response. Lorelei persuaded him with her smile that this was where she wanted to be, in his arms. Severus could have walked away from the lake, but instead he had chosen to come to her. Lorelei let her hands drift over the definition in his back. She resisted the urge to twine her legs with his. He wasn't ready for that quite yet. Perhaps it was time to share her little secret. She said, "Trust me. Stop treading. You won't sink." Lorelei realised that she was really pleading for him to trust her emotionally as well as physically.  
  
Severus stilled all movement. He remained effortlessly buoyant in her embrace.  
  
She said, "Sirens don't drown their lovers." She slid her fingers through his hair. The strands were dry!  
  
"Water Repelling Charm," Severus said. "I prefer not getting wet."  
  
"That's the best part," Lorelei said. "Break the charm for me?"  
  
Immediately, his wet skin clung to hers and his hair slid like damp silk through her fingers. She shuddered at how good his slick body felt against her own. She watched the pulse beat rapidly at the base of his throat, and wondered if he knew how her heart pounded, felt how she trembled. Their gazes locked. He knew. His face was no longer unreadable. His eyes openly devoured her, flaring in desire. Her insides melted. The world outside the circle of Severus' arms ceased to exist. Time slowed as he settled his mouth on hers. Time stopped.  
  
Lorelei marvelled at the bursts of colour sparking against her closed lids. It really was possible to see fireworks. Severus's clever lips lingered over hers. He took away her breath and gave it back in a heated slide of bodies and tongues.  
  
_Splash!_  
  
A wave of water crashed over them. Lorelei let Severus go to push her hair out of her eyes. "I think the Giant Squid is telling us something." She yelled, "OK, we're going!" and swam to shore.  
  
It was worth the indignity of being treated like randy students to hear Severus chuckle.   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On This Night of A Thousand Stars is a song from the musical Evita by the Muggle wizard Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber.


	7. Chatting Up

 

Severus read the latest article highlighting Ministry ineptitude before turning the offending page of the _Daily Prophet_. As he prepared to skip the societal drivel masquerading as news, his fingers halted mid-turn. He contemplated the familiar smarmy face leering at an elaborately gowned woman pressed to her escort's side. The caption underneath the photograph read:  _Minister for Magic expresses his gratitude to Marina and the Siren Corporation for their generous donation to St. Mungo's Hospital._  
  
The woman who had stopped beside his chair said, "Now there's a true Aphrodite. I must owl Mum and let her know that I saw her looking fabulous in the paper. She lives for that sort of thing."  
  
Severus recollected their conversation in the Three Broomsticks. "Your mother looks...clingy."  
  
"She's a Muse," Lorelei said. "When I was growing up, Mum's work was so transitory that she needed me to always be there to look after her. Now, I'm glad she's finally found one man to make her happy." Her lips curved in a smile. "Her partner's quite happy too." She pointed to the distinguished bald man escorting her mother in the photograph. "Jean-Luc is the Siren Corporation's top chemist."  
  
"Who looked after you?" Severus asked, ignoring her transparent effort to steer the conversation into shallower waters.  
  
"House-elves. I send Christmas gifts to elves across Europe. That's why my classroom looks so nice, and I always get the best service." She sat in the chair beside him. "Good morning."  
  
Severus's lips twitched. The events of last night were apparently the reason for this alteration in their breakfast routine. Lorelei spoke her order for the morning meal. Instantly, her food appeared, garnished with sprigs of mint.  
  
She really did get the best service.  
  
  
  
Lorelei sighed. If she didn't drag her head out of the clouds, she was going to dreamily allow a student to melt a cauldron. Earlier, distracted by thoughts of Severus, she was almost forced to use a Deflating Draft on a second year student. Lorelei had been helping a Hufflepuff with her Swelling Solution when a Slytherin girl had asked if her potion looked right. Blithely asking questions without properly attending to the answers had almost led to disaster.  
  
"Listen closely. Does it whistle loudly?" she had asked without even glancing at the girl's cauldron.  
  
"Yes, Professor Lorelei."  
  
"Is the liquid frothing madly?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Is the colour a vile green?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Perfect!" Lorelei had replied before the girl's actual response registered. A hasty Vanishing Charm had narrowly averted disaster.  
  
Stories of the horrific swellings of noses and eyes and limbs from students who had studied with Professor Snape were school legend. If she had let the girl be splashed with the Swelling Solution, the consequences did not bear thinking about, even if his smirks were endearingly arrogant. Not that anyone else seemed to share her opinion. Most of the students and staff reacted in fear or defiance to Severus's tall, dark and daunting persona. His use of sarcastic remarks as teaching aids and conversational gambits didn't win him any popularity points either.  
  
The object of her thoughts stalked down the corridor toward her. He was en route to instruct a Potions class while she was on her way to teach a History of Magic lesson. She was not looking forward to trying to make the International Warlock Convention of 1289 come to life for her students. Perhaps she could let them practice the Stinging Hex invented at the convention by the Dark Wizard Count Adhemar.  
  
"What thought is so deep and interesting that it renders you incapable of paying attention to your surroundings?"  
  
_Severus._ Lorelei had unconsciously adjusted her course. Now she was blocking his path. She decided to try and rattle his cage. "I was thinking you're very amusing when you sneer."  
  
Haughtily, he raised his brows and raked his gaze up and down her curves. "You're amusing when you blush." Her face heated more when he said, "Restricted Section. Five o'clock."  
  
  
  
The window seat in the back corner of the library's Restricted Section was one of Severus's favourite places to read. The appeal wasn't the lighting or atmosphere, but the seat itself. Wide enough to sit sideways with his legs stretched out on the seat and his back cushioned with a pillow against the wall, and deep enough that another person could do the same beside him, the velvet covered seat was incredibly comfortable. It was also private. Students were prohibited without signed permission, and fellow teachers were seldom interested in the books there.  
  
Today, he leafed through a couple pages of  _Moste Potent Potions_  before setting the book on the floor. Irma Pince would have kittens if she could see a precious book treated so carelessly. The disrespectful idea made giving in to the urge to lean his head back and close his eyes even more agreeable. Putting his body at ease did not do the same with his thoughts, however. Severus's life had changed, and he was still trying to come to terms with the impact. He would not lie to himself and say he was displeased. It was rather that he was unsure how to please.  
  
"I can guess the subject of your reverie."  
  
Severus pondered the statement made by the Siren who had found his hideaway. It sounded like a line from the book girls had sighed over in Muggle Studies. "Am I supposed to play that Darcy character and compliment your fine eyes?"  
  
Pleased laughter spilled over him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent his eyes from opening. He felt her brush against him as she dropped onto the seat and swung her legs up alongside his. He didn't have to see her to imagine the face regarding his own. A light touch moved an errant strand of hair out of his eyes. She leaned close and whispered, "Teasing, teasing, man." A fingertip slowly traced his lips.  
  
Severus said, " _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus._ "  
  
"What if the sleeping dragon needs to be tickled?"  
  
He opened his eyes. Lorelei gave a startled laugh but remained leaning over him with a hand braced against the window to help her look directly into his face. What to do with the incorrigible woman. He knew what he wanted to do, but first he felt compelled to ask, "What do you see in a face like mine?"  
  
"That's a loaded question. What's so wrong with your face that you have to ask?"  
  
"This abnormally large nose."  
  
She ran an elegant finger down its length. "It's noble. Commanding."  
  
He frowned at her answer. "This greasy hair." Severus knew the students called it several other unsavoury adjectives as well.  
  
"I like a little natural oil." She ran her fingers through it. "Makes it soft."  
  
Severus raised a brow. Before he could say a word, her fingertip followed the curve of brows and then traced half circles under his eyes.  
  
"Your eyebrows are expressive, and your eyes are mysterious dark pools."  
  
"Cold and empty."  
  
"Veiled deliberately, but passionate."  
  
"Passionate?" The conversation was heading in an interesting direction.  
  
"Yes. Like your lips."  
  
It was hard to sneer when he wanted to smile, but Severus managed.  
  
Her hands moved to rest on his shoulders. "Everything about you takes my breath away."  
  
He couldn't help a small smile.  
  
A slight blush coloured her cheeks. "OK, that sounded like a cheesy chat up line, but it's true."  
  
Severus brushed his lips across hers in a kiss expressing the unfamiliar sweetness he felt in her arms.  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun using the description of Swelling Solution from CoS to create mine, "I can guess" and "teasing, teasing man" quotes from Pride and Prejudice, and the Hogwarts motto. Speaking of cheesy chat up lines, I read an interesting article once that claimed women found men who used them funny and attractively self-confident. Guess it works the other way round too. ;)


	8. An Invitation

 

The next evening, Lorelei paced the dimly lit corridor waiting for Severus to return to his quarters. The shadows were lengthening, giving the stone passageway a deliciously Gothic atmosphere. The enchanted torches flickered in the slight cool breeze. Lorelei stopped. Had she heard something? She shivered when fingers grasped her shoulders and pulled her back against a firm, masculine body. A hand moved to tug her hair and tilt her head to the side, exposing her throat. Teeth nipped. A velvety voice said, "I must warn you that intruders to my quarters are severely  _punished._ "  
  
The current of dark laughter in his tone goaded Lorelei into action. She turned and slid her fingers into his Severus's hair, tightening her grip to force his smirking face down to meet her demanding lips. She pressed him against the wall with his now hotly enthusiastic participation.  
  
"You there, I beg thee stop!" the knight from the guardian painting cried. "Thy immodest actions are bringing my fair maid to the blush. Get thee to a room, Sirrah!"  
  
Lorelei told Severus, "See what happens when you tease a woman with a vampire fixation?"  
  
Her breathy words made his brows draw together. "Vampire fixation?"  
  
"Well, students call you a malevolent bat, and you do hang around dungeons and swoop about in those billowing robes. When you grabbed me and bit my neck—"  
  
"Liked that, did you?"  
  
"Merlin, yes. Do it again."  
  
Severus gave a huff of amusement and moved behind her, gently pushing the tumbled curls over her right shoulder, exposing her throat and the pulse leaping at its base. She closed her eyes and bit her lip when he whispered, "Were you waiting to ask me something?"  
  
"Yes," she groaned out as warm lips nibbled her neck. "My mother's throwing a masquerade party on Saturday. It's a company function as much as a social event. I thought if you wanted to go with me, I could have a satin cloak and mask sent to you so won't have to dress up in a silly costume."  
  
He said, "I have...duties…to attend that evening, but I will meet you at the party."  
  
_Duties. Research._ Words that came up when she'd suggested they go to London some weekend, or Floo to wherever Piper's band was playing, or walk down to the Three Broomsticks for a drink. Severus clearly wanted to keep his personal life private. She understood. Relationship gossip of any kind blazed through the school like Fiendfyre. She'd taken a chance asking him to the masquerade. If he didn't want to escort her publically, it was enough that he would meet her there. She glanced at the couple in the painting and released his hand. "I'll be easy to find."  
  
"What costume will you wear?"  
  
She blew him a kiss. "Persephone."  
  
  
  
On the morning of the masquerade, Lorelei wondered why she bothered to go to the Hall for breakfast when the man who made getting up early worthwhile was somewhere else doing  _research._  
  
"Worry will not add a single hair to your head, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said as he seated himself beside her. He sighed when a bowl of porridge appeared. "Nor will it add bacon to your plate when house-elves think you should have a healthier diet."  
  
She smiled reluctantly. "I never thought it would. Sounds like a Muggle saying."  
  
"But true nonetheless."  
  
His assurance gave Lorelei hope. "I'll remember that." Since he didn't seem interested in eating his porridge, she asked the question that had nagged at her for ages. "Why did you make me wait seven years?"  
  
"Before hiring you? Don't you know?"  
  
"Not unless seven really is a number of completion."  
  
"Oh, it is, but my true reason was more like making a specific kind of potion. One that takes time to simmer gently before it reaches full potency." His eyes twinkled. "Need I tell you what kind of potion I've been brewing, figuratively speaking?"  
  
"No! Thank you, that's not necessary." Professor McGonagall had entered the Hall, and the last thing Lorelei wanted was for her to overhear anything about Severus or love potions.  
  
  
  
At ten o'clock that night, the masquerade was in full swing. Lorelei's mother, Marina, embodied Aphrodite with her upswept brown curls and cloth of gold gown. Jean-Luc, Marina's partner, carried a spear and wore a Greek tunic and cloak. "I'm Ares," he said. "Her current favourite."  
  
"My eternal favourite," Marina replied. She smoothed a fold in the skirt of the winter white ball gown that left one of Lorelei's shoulders bare. "Where is your Hades, my Persephone?"  
  
Across the ballroom, masked medieval ladies danced with satyrs, nymphs danced with knights and couples dressed in an array of mythological and historical costumes twirled in a waltz. Lorelei said, "I think your guests are waiting for you to toss a few golden apples."  
  
"That means we should respect her privacy," Jean-Luc said. He led Marina onto the dance floor.  
  
Lorelei slipped out of the ballroom and made her way past the couples enjoying the night breeze to the far, darkened corner of the garden. Marina couldn't have an ordinary gazebo. She had commissioned a false ruin of a Greek temple that allowed one to see the garden over a tumbled wall. Inside, the temple ceiling showed an array of shooting stars around the constellation Andromeda. Lorelei had always been fond of the story of the princess chained to the rock and the hero Perseus who freed and married her. She sat on the stone bench and stared up at the stars which resembled a woman holding out her enchained arms.  
  
A silky voice said, "I've come for you, Persephone."  
  


  
  
_The shades of the underworld cried, "Where is she? Where is she?"_  
  
_Hades pushed past their outstretched hands. He refused to believe Persephone had left him alone in the never-ending dark. Relentlessly, he prowled through every corridor, but found no trace of his bride. She was gone._  
  
_"No!"_  
  
Severus jolted awake, the anguished cry still reverberating through his body. He took slow, deep breaths to relax. Dreams were not reality. On the floor, a white gown lay beside a pool of black silk. Soft curves pressed against his back.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
He turned to kiss his lover. "Yes, it is."  
  
After an extremely pleasant morning, Lorelei went to have tea with Hagrid. Severus declined the invitation to accompany her. Muggles called Sunday a day of rest, but he called it a day of respite from the students who continually tried his patience. He wanted nothing more than to spend a quiet afternoon reading in a comfortable chair by the fire.  
  
Except that he couldn't concentrate on his potions text.  
  
Lorelei had told him that she would make her way to the Dragon Claw willow after tea. Severus's eyes were continually drawn to his timepiece. Finally, he decided that he had been inside too long, and a walk would be beneficial. He gathered his cloak, a blanket, and headed for the lake.  
  
As usual, his timing was impeccable. He'd no sooner spread the blanket than the fronds parted. He looked at the lake, which was barely visible through the thick greenery. "Did you enjoy your tea?"  
  
Lorelei sat beside him. "Yes. Have you waited long? You look like you're bored silly."  
  
"I am never silly."  
  
"Bored to tears?"  
  
"I never cry."  
  
"Bored beyond endurance?"  
  
He said dryly, "I endure my students. Therefore boredom is no strain for me."  
  
"Bored to death?"  
  
What cheek. "I am very much alive."  
  
"Are you? I think I need to verify that firsthand." She slid her hand into his cloak to splay across his heart.  
  
He pressed her down onto the blanket and kissed her to provide evidence that he was indeed alive and extremely warm-blooded. "Do you need more...verification?"  
  
Severus hid a smile when she said, "Yes, please." 


	9. Holly King

 

Severus added a minute amount of fine powder to the potion he was testing and begrudgingly marked the solution as successful. It was the last flagon to be examined, and now he was free to enjoy the Halloween weekend. How strange that sounded. _Free to enjoy_. For the longest time, Severus hadn't felt entitled to enjoy anything. Not the taste of food, the satisfaction of brewing a complicated potion, or the softness of a lover's touch. Not when his actions had caused the death of the woman he'd loved.

 

Lily was still dead. Why was the ache he'd hidden away deep inside not as sharp?

 

He knew why, and it made him feel like he was betraying her all over again.

 

 

A bonfire burned in a field adjacent to the village. Lorelei looked forward to dancing around it later, if Severus finished the research he claimed had to be completed that night. Her long full skirt with petticoats peeking out from the hem drew curious looks. Perhaps she was overdressed for a village Fire Festival. She entered the Hog's Head Inn. At a large round table in the back, a boisterous group was laughing and talking.

 

Lorelei called out, "Piper! _Ciamar a tha thu_?"

 

He shouted back, " _Tha mi gu math!_ "

 

She reached the table and hugged her friend. "What do you mean, you're well? Seeing me should add _uamhasach math_ to that."

 

Sharp teeth flashed in a wide smile. "You're right, I'm awfully good, now that I've seen you. You're not as ugly as other humans."

 

"Dinnae fash yerself, beauty, the rest of us appreciate a fine bird, and bitterly regret the day you left our merry band." Ian MacManus, a lanky musician equally talented with small pipes, fiddle and viola rose to give her a hug.

 

She kissed his cheek. "And then yer arse fell off."

 

Amid laughter, she sat down between Piper and the drummer, a Goblin named Sticks. Across the table, Mairi, the vocalist who had replaced Lorelei, scooted her chair closer to Ian's. If she thought a Siren was going after her man, she'd soon learn differently. Lorelei and Ian had dated for less than a week seven years ago. The charmer was sweet, but he had the disposition and attention span of an overgrown puppy. They had been equally relieved to stop trying to be more than friends.

 

The group talked in Gaelic to the great disgust of the old wizards nearby who were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. Lorelei knew the grumpy old men would imagine something much more intriguing than a chat about tour dates and best places to caravan amidst Piper's questions about teaching at Hogwarts. The group thought her mad to prefer students to singing.

 

She accompanied them to the field where the village council had paid Gaelic Uprising to perform. Lorelei stood in the audience and listened with pleasure to their repertoire of ancient and modern Scottish and Irish Gaelic songs. Ian had once teased that the Irish only had dance, not work songs, because of course drunken Irishmen didn't know the meaning of a hard day's work. As if an oft drunk Scot like himself would know. The Puirt a Beul, or mouth music songs, were her favourites. Written to accompany dancing and to amuse children, the tunes were traditionally meant for a vocalist without accompaniment. Lorelei preferred the group's use of percussion and rhythmic guitar to keep the rhythm constantly driving without a hesitation in the beat. Mairi was a fine singer, never losing the fast paced words or rhythm. Lorelei found that she instinctively breathed at the end of a verse or chorus along with the other woman, and wondered how many people knew the song, translated into English, went, "I like him, I like him, he doesn't drink.' The words were ironic when sung to Ian, who took a nip of Firewhiskey as his partner sang.

 

Every so often, Lorelei would scan the crowd. Finally, she saw a cloaked figure standing in the shadows beyond the glow of the bonfire. He stood like an imposing statue. _Severus_. She waved goodbye to Piper and joined her lover in the moonlight.

 

He said, "Superstition claims that on this night those inhabiting the lands of the living and the dead can journey from one world to the other."

 

"Do you believe it?" she asked.

 

"No."

 

"But you're still haunted by someone."

 

"Not the way I should be."

 

Severus's confession tugged at Lorelei's heart. He hadn't stayed at Hogwarts with his memories. She decided to make him glad he'd left to be with her. "You're not Hades tonight," she said.

 

"Who am I?"

 

She backed up a step. "Are you using a Night Vision Spell?"

 

"Yes."

 

"So am I." She took a step back. "You're the Holly King of the winter forest. In folklore, the Holly King captures the Spring Maiden and. . . ."

 

"Tell me."

 

Oh, Merlin, he could seduce with his voice alone. "Ravishes her." Lorelei turned on her heel and sprinted toward a path into the nearby section of the Forbidden Forest. "But he has to catch her first!"

 

Rushing down the dim path that wove like a ribbon through dense underbrush and trees, an incredible rush of exhilaration swept over her. She was the Spring Maiden, fleeing until she decided to let the Holly King catch her. She could hear his footsteps behind her, gaining on her. She reached a clearing and stopped just before she stepped into a grassy circle. The sudden tug by strong fingers unbalanced Lorelei and caused her to fall into the circle, pulling her pursuer in also.

 

Time seemed to shift and slow. The air was warm. The grass had transformed into a bed of tiny, white, sweet-smelling flowers. Above her, Severus watched the flowers appearing like fireworks in the darkness with an expression that was hard to define. It was wonder and disbelief mingled together. "Are we actually lying in a fairy ring?"

 

She slid her fingers into his hair and brought his lips to hers. "It's a gift from the Fair Folk," she said between soft, deep kisses. "You wouldn't refuse a gift, would you?"

 

The unguarded smile that meant so much because it was so rare lit Severus's face. His answer was given with his lips and hands and body.


	10. Memorably Unmemorable

 

November at Hogwarts was a month with weather that switched capriciously from grey skies to driving rain, cool sunshine, or bitter snow-swept cold. The chance of snow was the talk of the Advanced Potions class. Severus called the students to order and asked the Greek origins of the Draught of Forgetfulness.  
  
"The original name was Lethe, after the river flowing through the Underworld," said Beale, an overeager Ravenclaw.  
  
Severus deducted House points for speaking before called upon. He informed the class that the Greeks believed souls on the way to Elysium drank from the River of Oblivion to forget their earthly lives and sorrows. The assignment was to brew two different draughts from a single base. The  _Lanqanesqai_  solution was used by Healers to help patients in those rare cases where horrific trauma necessitated specific memory loss to ensure the health of a fragile psyche. A second potion,  _Lanqanein_ , was taken by Aurors and others wishing to escape notice. The solution would render the user unmemorable for a fixed period of time. Severus himself had used  _Lanqanein_  to bypass general counter spells on missions.  
  
He paused to demand that students handle the vials of babies' first tears with extreme care. The liquid was exorbitantly expensive. Most parents were unwilling to let their precious child's tears be taken. The base solution could not be made without them. A child's first tears, because they were immediately forgotten, magically bonded the rest of the ingredients.  
  
"The instructions are on the board." He prowled the classroom to restrain the few students who would socialise if they did not fear he would overhear their conversations. The dungeon hummed with quiet industry. Toward the end of class, when all that remained was to sit at his desk and wait for flagons to be filled, labelled, and turned in for testing, Severus allowed his mind to wander to a place of Greek legend.  
  
  
  
_He moved silently through his Underworld palace, brushing aside the servants who wished to inform him of their mistress' whereabouts. No words were needed. He could hear a faint echo of a haunting melody, and knew that following it to its source would lead him to his desire. Briskly descending the exterior steps and following the path that connected one end of his kingdom to the other, Hades ignored the fork leading to the right. Persephone was not in Tartarus, the plain of judgment. The Vale of Mourning was likewise avoided._  
  
Black robes billowing in the perpetual twilight, he continued through the Asphodel Fields where common souls wandered like shadows in the grey mist. Eyes darker than the night saw through the ghostly haze to the place where his faithful guardian waited. He patted Cerberus on one of his many heads and walked further. Whispers from the field of unburied souls on his left came to him upon the cool wind. They, too, had seen their mistress pass this way. Raising a hand in acknowledgement, Hades made his way to the marsh. Charon lifted his pole in a steady rhythm to propel the boat carrying his Lord across the water to the far bank. Hades nodded his thanks as he disembarked and travelled down the path once more.  
  
Tiresias, the seer, sat upon his sacred rock and asked if any assistance was required. Hades shook his head and lengthened his stride. He reached the plains of passing time. He glided along the trail obscured by waist-high grass without disturbing a blade. At another fork in the path, one way led to the Elm from which False Dreams Cling. The tree rustled, inviting him to come and experience visions whose only limit was his imagination. A sneer twisted his lips. He chose the way that led to the Grove of Persephone. His pace quickened.  
  
In the middle of the grove of Elms bearing What Dreams May Come, a field of the softest flowers from Olympus grew in sunlight more radiant than that which shone on Elysium. Hades crossed the space eagerly.  
  
The humming of a poignant tune stopped the moment the reclining goddess of spring saw his face. Opening her arms, she said, "Beloved."  
  
  
  
"Are you all right, Professor?"  
  
Beale stood by his desk, a flagon of completed potion in her hand. Severus said, "I was testing to see who would finish first without constant supervision." He awarded Ravenclaw the points he had previously deducted.  
  
  
  
"How did you know it was snowing again?"  
  
Lorelei stopped singing  _Let it Snow_  and looked to where Severus stood in the doorway. A few snowflakes still clung to his cloak and hair, but most had melted. His eyelashes clumped together in a most appealing way. She closed her book and slipped it between sofa cushions. "I had a feeling the weather would change tonight. That song has been running through my mind all day. Twice, students asked what I was humming."  
  
Severus used a Drying Charm on his cloak and hung it on a peg. In the weeks since Halloween, he had gradually become comfortable about accepting her invitation to enter her chambers without asking formal permission. He sank onto the sofa beside her like a man exhausted.  
  
She asked softly, "Did your research go well tonight?"  
  
Lorelei never asked direct questions about the project Severus was undertaking for Dumbledore, but she posed indirect ones which he would answer obliquely. The veiled concern and corresponding reassurance brought a feeling of warmth and security to their relationship.  
  
"Yes. It was quite...informative."  
  
"Good."  
  
A satiric brow—was there anything sexier—lifted when Severus said, "I suppose you'll want to play in the snow tomorrow, and I'll have to take  _Lanqanein_ potion _._ "  
  
"Well, we wouldn't want the students to remember Professor Snape making a snowman, would we? They couldn't handle the shock."  
  
"I may not either." His eyelids drooped.  
  
She said, "Come to bed."  
  
In the middle of the night, Lorelei woke with an urge to see the snow. She slipped from beneath the duvet and softly chanted the words which transformed a wall into a magical window. Through the enchanted "glass" she could see the expanse of school grounds and the stand of trees that thickened until they became the Forbidden Forest. Snowflakes danced in the gusting wind. Snow covered the grass with a white blanket and frosted the trees. A white stag and doe that must have wandered out of the forbidden part of the forest ambled along the tree line before disappearing. Lorelei sighed when her lover wrapped his arms around her.  
  
He said, "I hope that window is enchanted to only show the view looking  _outside._ "  
  
She laughed until the feel of Severus's lips and skin made her forget the snow-swept outdoors.  
  
  
  
The condition of being un-memorable was a commonplace occurrence during his research into the activities of groups that supported Voldemort, but it was damned odd when people in his regular life acted as though he wasn't there. Perhaps he  _was_  used to a certain amount of attention. In the corridors, when students didn't scurry to move out of his way, Severus's first impulse was to deduct House points or give detentions. It had taken the entire walk from his quarters to the Great Hall to become accustomed to those he passed forgetting him the moment they saw him. Once inside the Hall, Severus walked over to the staff table and sat by Lorelei. He felt more relieved than he cared to admit when she smiled at him. He shared her breakfast.  
  
Outside the castle, he shoved a woolen cap onto his head. "You don't really want to make a snowman, do you?"  
  
"Let's take a walk." She led him away from student infested areas to a frozen pond. "Do you like to skate?"  
  
Lily had, and when they were first-years, she had taught him a Skating Charm. He'd almost forgotten.  
  
Lorelei gestured to the bag on a snow covered bench next to the pond. "I brought skates that have a Sizing Charm."  
  
"We won't need them." The feeling of gliding across the ice when one was actually above it was like flying. Throughout his childhood, Severus would have given anything to fly. Voldemort had promised him wings.  
  
"Let's race," Lorelei said after he'd cast the Skating Charms. "If I win, you build a snowman." She skated toward the opposite side of the pond.  
  
He shook off the weight of the past and chased after her. He won the race. Lorelei stepped onto the snow and fell backward, waving her arms and legs. Severus didn't think she was throwing a fit about losing. "What are you doing?"  
  
She held out a hand. He pulled her up. She wrapped her arms around him. "Muggles call it a snow angel. Isn't she beautiful?"  
  
He didn't look at the impression in the snow. "Indeed."   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope readers enjoyed the journey into Greek legend. If Severus had the imagination to create spells and potions, he had the imagination to daydream. I got the giggles imagining Lorelei singing, "Do you want to build a snowman?" and Severus replying, "Hell, no." Bonus points to any reader who had the same mental image. Great minds, thinking alike. :D


	11. The Diary

 

Flurries of snow whooshed by the windows, causing the view out the many candlelit panes to resemble a snow globe vigorously shaken. Severus shrugged off the nonsensical thought and pretended to concentrate on his dinner. The school was blessedly quiet with only a few children remaining, but peace of mind, unlike peaceful surroundings, was hard to find. On the surface, everything was well. He had time to pursue his potions research, and the other "research" he performed had tapered off. Ironically, even those who waited for their Dark Lord's return had holiday plans.

 

His relationship with Lorelei was beyond satisfying. She was as excellent a companion as she was a lover, and the days and nights spent together were almost too good to be true. The feeling that something was bound to go wrong was one that Severus had felt all his life. Things always had gone wrong, which was why he was perturbed now.

 

Three mornings ago, a tawny owl had dropped a slim package in front of Lorelei. She had taken one look at the writing on the brown wrapper and paled before acting as though it were just another piece of post. In her quarters, he had watched her place a slim book into the bedside table drawer while the brown paper it had been wrapped in burned in her fireplace. "A letter from your mother?" he had asked. She'd shown him the parchment while omitting what else her mother had sent.

 

He had waited for her to confide in him. Shadows began to appear under her eyes, and her sleep became restless. That afternoon, when his lover had accompanied Hagrid and the children on a snow-shoe walk, Severus had stood beside her bed looking down at the side table, burning to open the drawer and read the words responsible for Lorelei's distress. He glanced at his lover. She had barely touched her food. Severus resolved that foolish ethics would deter him no longer. After dinner, while Lorelei and the other professors and children decorated gingerbread in the kitchen, he was going to read a book.

 

 

 

It was a diary. No dates or names were inscribed on the inside cover. He flipped a page and scrutinised the handwriting. It looked like Lorelei's. He read:

 

_I've decided to keep a journal over summer holiday. I never have before, but one of my friends who divine the future tells me the stars say I must. Or maybe the tea leaves said it. Or was it the cards? Whatever the reason, she was quite adamant, and even gave me this blank volume to write in. Smart witch. I never would have bought one for myself._

_The unhappiness of my last position compelled me to find a place to recover. One of my aunts recommended the island of Hoy. I'm thankful she did. The Northern coast of Scotland has a stark beauty unlike anywhere else. Something about it calls to my soul. The light is amazing. It never really gets dark at this time of year. The people call it the simmer dim, and I've explored the beach into the wee hours and never been afraid. The sun barely sinks below the horizon, and the twilight is magical. I'm looking forward to the Midsummer Bonfire._

Severus frowned. What in a travel diary could be so upsetting? He flipped a few pages further. Bold words leapt out.

 

_Beyond Britannia, where the endless ocean opens, lies Orkney._

_Orosius, a fifth century scholar, wrote that, and the people here are quite chuffed with the description. I was informed at the pub that the people of the Orkney Islands aren't of Celtic, but Norse descent, and some even speak the ancient variation of the language called Norn. Now I know that the children are saying “good day witch” when they cry “goanda felkyo” while they run past me in the village, which is very amusing._

_I love to listen to the almost musical inflections of the unhurried, deliberate voices that tell tales of the sailors and the sea people who love this place where the ocean and the North Sea meet. The old man who told tonight's tale stared oddly at me the entire time, as if he were trying to convey something. Or maybe he just hadn't seen an attractive woman in a while._

 

Hmmm, the staring . . . he didn't like that. Severus hoped the gaffer was merely an admirer, but somehow knew he wasn't. He leafed through more pages until a paragraph caught his eye.

 

_The older children asked me to help them gather heather for the bonfire tonight. We collected armfuls and carried the bundles to where the peat is stacked and waiting to be lit. Wood is much too precious to be wasted in such a way. One girl told me she was going to carry home a partially burned fragment of peat and set it on her door lintel so the next day she could break it open and see what colour hair her future husband would have. I gently refused her offer to save me a piece._

_Another child bragged how he would leap over the flames for good luck. The belief that fire wards against all forms of evil is prevalent here as in so many other cultures. As I waved goodbye, the girl who had offered the peat ran after me and tugged my sleeve. She blurted that her mam had the Sight, and had told her that I was a child of earth and sea, and I shouldn't go onto the beach tonight. She shook her head and ran off, looking frightened to say more. Now I'm intrigued, and the beach sounds like the perfect place for a midnight walk._

 

Severus turned the page.

 

_Did I realise that going down to the shore after watching the bonfire light the sky in orange and crimson flames would change my life? Perhaps I should have strolled around the fire sunwise as the children begged me to, but I was so restless. I needed to go on a long walk. The water was icy as I waded through the shallows with bare feet. I stepped on a shell. Blood dripped into the water before I could close the wound with a Healing Charm. Tears of pain and loneliness rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them off and rinsed my hands in the waves._

_I sat upon the sand and watched the sea, wishing I wasn't alone. Lying back upon my shawl, I closed my eyes. Cool lips touched mine. I knew that the man who had awakened me with a kiss was no dream. The old man's story had come true._

_Selkies are empathic creatures drawn by tears and blood. My unhappiness had sent a psychic call into the sea and Tynan had answered it. We talked of our lives in the midsummer twilight. He entreated me to meet him again. Staring at the words I've just written, I still can't believe it happened, but it did._

 

He almost threw the book into the fire. Severus forced himself to leaf through stomach-churning descriptions of how the pair had fallen in love and how happy they'd been until it was time for the seal people to migrate onward, compelled by nature to travel the ocean. The final words made his jaw clench.

 

_He promises to come to me at the time of year I love so much. Selkies are curious about the land folk and their lives and enjoy wandering among them for short periods. The strand of pearls he gave me are a token of his love, and through them, he can find me wherever I go. How I long for Christmas!_

 

Severus opened the door to Lorelei's wardrobe and rifled through the drawers of her jewellry chest until he found the strand of pearls that he'd admired. Pearls she'd left on when there was nothing else between them but skin.

 

He heard a gasp and turned to face his lover.


	12. The Row

 

Lorelei stared at the pearls in his hand, the diary on the bed. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Discovering the truth." He dropped the pearls.  
  
The necklace landed on stone instead of rug. Thankfully, the silk knots between the pearls kept them from falling off when the strand broke. She rushed forward to snatch the necklace up.  
  
He blocked her way. "Look at me."  
  
She met his eyes. Images rose in her mind.  
  
_She was swimming in the ocean. A seal with beautiful dark eyes swam beside her. She held onto his neck while he dove down to show her a world she had never seen. After exploring, she rested on the shore. A man leaned over her, pushing his long wet fringe out of his eyes. He smiled and bent to kiss her._  
  
Lorelei pushed Severus as hard as she could. He stumbled back a step. She balled her fists to keep from pushing him again. "Legilimency? Instead of asking, you rifle through my memories the way you rifled through my possessions? Talk to me!"  
  
"I have only one question to ask. Do you still long for Christmas?"  
  
She shook her head. "What does Christmas have to do with anything?"  
  
A gleam of satisfaction flared in his eyes. "Are you so fickle that you have forgotten your selkie lover will use his  _token of love_  to find you?"  
  
The pearls. Oh, gods.  
  
"Or does your lover not care how many men warm your bed as long as he has his turn?"  
  
She slapped him.  
  
Severus grabbed her wrist. "The truth stings, doesn't it?"  
  
Her throat tightened with angry tears. "You don't know the truth."  
  
"How could I?" His eyes burned. The flush on his cheekbones highlighted the darker mark on his cheek. "Only one thing about you is real." He released her wrist to take hold of her arms and pull her close. "Your Siren's need to lure men." He kissed her roughly, with a passion driven by fury instead of tenderness. He drew her to lie down on the mattress. His lips gentled and trailed to her ear. "Say the word and I will service your need." He pressed against her. "But know this. Once you take another lover I will never touch you again."  
  
She pushed at his shoulders. "Get off me, you...jealous... _ass_!"  
  
He rose from the bed. "To be jealous, I'd have to care." He picked up the broken necklace and tossed it at her. "If sentiment is what you crave, get it from your selkie."  
  
She snatched the pearls off the duvet and threw them at him with all her strength. Severus mouthed a spell. The pearls hovered in air and then the strand burst apart. Pearls bounced and rolled. He glared at her, triumphant, and stalked out the door.  
  
  
  
His emotions were out of control. Dangerous. The weakest of Legilimens could invade his mind with ease.  
  
Severus didn't care.  
  
He was tired of suppressing thoughts and memories, tired of emptying himself, denying himself to keep up his guard. He locked himself in his quarters and pulled out the bottle of Firewhiskey that had gathered dust since Dumbledore gave it to him four Christmases ago. He'd never opened it because he never drank at school.  
  
Until now.  
  
The Firewhiskey tasted like liquid rebellion. He alone would say when he'd had enough. He filled a tumbler and drank. The alcohol burned like his anger. He needed no water to dilute it.  
  
_Tears of pain and loneliness rolled down my cheeks._  
  
He cursed Lorelei and her girlish woes. What did she know of pain and loneliness? Nothing compared to him. He poured another glass of Firewhiskey. If he swirled the glass, the scents of oak and vanilla would rise as some of the alcohol evaporated. He snickered and drank. What did he care that the Firewhiskey smelled like paint thinner? He wanted the alcohol in his blood, not dissipating in air. He drank until the memories he'd coaxed from Lorelei became visions that threatened to send him into madness. The curves of her body. The man's face. Something about the man's face.  
  
Severus threw his glass across the room. Enough! He had had enough. He crawled into bed to sleep.  
  
In the morning, potions took the edge off his hangover, but he was too drained to get out of bed. He closed his eyes and began to dream.  
  
  
  
_Sparks flared in the darkness as Hades stalked through the corridors of his Underworld palace. Persephone rose from the bed when he entered their chamber._  
  
_"Beloved, I awoke and you were gone."_  
  
_Hades slammed the door shut. "I went to to ask my brother for six more weeks of winter. He denied my petition. The rodent mortals consult like an oracle predicted an early spring, and because mortals believe the rodent speaks for Olympus, Zeus will not oppose it."_  
  
_"I am sorry."_  
  
_"Are you?" The enchanted torches on the wall blazed brighter as his temper flared. "Zeus told me you have been seen near the entrance to the mortal realm gazing wistfully."_  
  
_"Eagerly," Persephone said. "I eagerly awaited the delivery of your gift."_  
  
_"You are my gift, according to my egotistical brother." Sparks filled the air. "A gift he allows me to enjoy out of his benevolence. Ha! He made the deal with your mother to pacify me, to give me a reason to stay in the shadows doing his bidding for eternity." The sparks became flames._  
  
_Persephone stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "I am grateful for every moment we spend together. Let us make the most of them."_  
  
_He glanced toward the bed. "I would not be gentle."_  
  
_Her low laugh enticed. "Do you believe spring is only delicate mists and soft rains? I glory in the fiercest storms."_  
  
_He took her into his arms and let his passion rage. When he awoke, she was gone. Her gift lay upon the mattress. A mirror with the face of Melusine, the goddess of remembrance between lovers, carved on the back. Hades looked into the mirror and frowned. Instead of Persephone, he saw a girl swimming in the sea._  
  
  
  
Severus's eyes sprang open. A girl. His Firewhiskey-addled brain had fixated on Lorelei's curves because they were those of a girl, not a woman. And the man who had kissed her had the same not-quite-adult look of seventh-year wizards at Hogwarts. That meant her memories were over a decade old. No wonder she had forgotten the selkie. Despite her rash claims he'd been a summer romance, not a true love. How had Severus not seen that? The answer brought a groan to his lips.  
  
He was a jealous ass.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun using Severus's words to Harry Potter during the OotP Occlumency lessons in the self-castigation this chapter.


	13. The Apology

 

Severus took a shower to clear his head. A note. He would send a note: two words on parchment to open a dialogue. He cast a spell to ensure no one else could break the envelope's seal and called for Slinky.  
  
The house-elf stepped out of the fireplace. "Yes, Professor Snape?"  
  
Professor? Not “Master”? Why the sudden change? Severus said, "I wish you to deliver a note to Professor Lorelei."  
  
"Professor Lorelei is not here." Slinky's tone was matter-of-fact, but a glint in his Slytherin-green eyes implied that it gave him pleasure to say, "Professor Lorelei is gone to London to sees family."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Last night, after she asks Slinky to help finds a missing pearl."  
  
"She broke a necklace?" Severus asked, ready to attempt Legilimency if Slinky met his gaze. "Did she take it to London to be restrung?"  
  
Slinky stared at the floor. "Professor Lorelei tells Slinky the necklace falls. She wraps the pearls in a scarf and places them in a drawer."  
  
"She left them behind?"  
  
"The pearls is still in the drawer."  
  
More proof that the selkie meant nothing to her. The memory of his jealous rage turned Severus's stomach. "Did she say when she would return?"  
  
"No, Professor."  
  
Severus dropped the note onto his writing desk. "Thank you. That will be all." He left his quarters and approached Lorelei's guardian painting. The siren turned her back on him. Severus muttered the password. The siren's lover in the painting asked, "Did you hear something, my darling?"  
  
"Only the sound of the waves crashing against our rock," the siren replied.  
  
Severus said the password louder.  
  
The painted siren said, "Now I hear a seagull cawing."  
  
"Hades!" Severus repeated grimly. "And if your magic is insufficient for you to hear, I will have your painting removed to the darkest, dankest hole in the castle and leave it to rot."  
  
The door to Lorelei's quarters swung open. He went straight to her bedside table drawer and found the pearls wrapped in a blue silk scarf. The diary was gone. Had she taken it to her mother's for safekeeping? Was she afraid that he'd burn it? He shut the drawer. It didn't matter what she'd done with it.  
  
He found Professor Sprout chatting with Professor Smalley over breakfast in the Great Hall. Sprout, in an attempt to be festive, had pinned a clump of holly to her battered hat. "You're just in time to give your opinion, Severus," she said. "Lorelei expressed interest in the study of Ancient Runes, so Alaric here wants to give her  _Advanced Rune Translations_ for Christmas _._ "  
  
"She's much too intelligent for  _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ ," Smalley said.  
  
Sprout snorted. "I told him if he wants her to fancy him he'll need to splash out on a rune set, not just a textbook. Don't you agree?"  
  
Severus said coldly, "I'm sure I wouldn't know."  
  
"You should try a Hair Potion," Smalley said. He smoothed his thick blond hair. "Women like a man with good hair."  
  
Severus looked at Sprout. "A word, Pomona?"  
  
She snagged a triangle of toast off her plate and lifted her mug. "I need to check on my Passionata tree. It mopes when the students who snog in my greenhouse are away. I'll eat and drink while you talk." Mid way to the greenhouse, Pomona finished her toast and her tea and halted on the snow laden path. "You're not keeping up your half of the bargain, Severus."  
  
Bargain? She'd set terms and he'd had no choice but to accept.  
  
An expression of alarm creased her wide forehead. "You do know the difference between mistletoe and holly, don't you?"  
  
He curled his lip. "Most definitely."  
  
She bellowed with laughter. "Sorry, Severus. Couldn't resist. I thought that would jangle your bells, help you spit out the reason for our chat."  
  
"I need a favour."  
  
"There! Was that so hard to say? What kind of favour?"  
  
Severus reminded himself that directness was a quality he'd formerly valued in his colleague. "I need a length of silk thread."  
  
"For a potion?"  
  
"A necklace."  
  
Sprout appeared stunned. "You're making a Christmas present?"  
  
"No."  
  
She eyed the mandarin collar of his robes. "Something for yourself, then?"  
  
The woman was more relentless than a badger tracking prey. He said, "I'm restringing a pearl necklace for . . . someone. No Mending Charm can fix the damage. Don't. Ask."  
  
"Come with me," she said.  
  
For someone small and well-rounded, she had a brisk stride. She led him to the greenhouse that held her more exotic plants. "Spells keep the mulberry tree from losing its leaves. Silkworms don't drink water. The leaves have to be fresh." She marched over to a dwarf white mulberry tree planted in a half barrel.  
  
"I don't see any worms."  
  
Sprout gave him one of her "Bit slow today, are we?" looks he remembered from Herbology class. "I only hatch eggs as part of my curriculum, or—in your case—when someone needs a bit of silk." She removed a paperback book from an inner cloak pocket. "I have to cast the spells in stages. It takes time." She handed him the paperback. "Read this to the Passionata tree."  
  
He stared down at the book cover that showed a woman with long dark hair running through a dungeon corridor in her nightdress. "What is this?"  
  
"Lorelei gave it to me. She said it's guaranteed to keep the Passionata tree growing until the students return. Something about erotic undertones and a brooding Gothic hero who snogs the plucky heroine every chance he gets." Sprout waved him toward a tree with scarlet heart-shaped leaves. "Go on. The sooner I start, the sooner you finish."  
  
He walked to the far side of the Passionata tree and conjured a chair to sit on. The scarlet leaves rustled. Severus opened  _The Serpent's Lair_  and began to read aloud.  
  
  
  
Lorelei had run home to her mother like a silly girl in a Gothic romance. Marina and Jean-Luc were delighted by her surprise visit. They said if she had not come to them, they would have booked a room at The Three Broomsticks and visited her. She had promptly burst into tears.  
  
Of happiness.  
  
"Right. I'm sure they believed that," Lorelei muttered as she watched Apollo drive his sun chariot across the enchanted fresco on her bedroom ceiling.  
  
Silky, Marina and Jean-Luc's house-elf, appeared beside the bed, breakfast tray in hand. "Good morning, Miss Lorelei."  
  
"Is it?" Oh, stars, she was tearing up again.  
  
Silky put down the tray and patted Lorelei's hand. "Miss Lorelei wishes Silky to wakes Mistress Marina?"  
  
"No, thank you. She's a kraken before she has her tea." Silky's tea towel was cloth-of-gold. Lorelei asked, "Do you have towels to match all my mother's gowns?"  
  
The elf's round blue eyes sparkled. "Yes, Miss Lorelei."  
  
"They must take up half the attic." Lorelei immediately regretted her thoughtless comment. "I mean, if you choose to store them there."  
  
"Silky's quarters is in the basement. House-elves likes basements best. We makes cosy dens."  
  
Lorelei had never heard that before. She thought of the house-elves on her Christmas list. "Is there any kind of present that would make your den cosier?"  
  
Silky thought for a moment. "A de-humidifying plant. Sometimes I forgets to renew Damp Rid Charms until the air smells mouldy."  
  
"Thank you." Lorelei would add Silky to her gift list.  
  
"Miss Lorelei is welcome."  
  
Lorelie lifted the stasis cover keeping her food warm on the plate. Kippers and eggs: a selkie's favourite breakfast when in human form. She gave an ironic, watery laugh and reached for the fork.  
  
That afternoon, her aunts and cousins and their partners and children arrived for an impromptu family Christmas party. Lorelei helped the children make scallop shell and starfish Christmas trees. Glaucus, Cousin Ariel's tow-haired little devil, set off a Whizz-Bang in the house. The activity and chatter should have distracted Lorelei from thinking about Severus, but it didn't. She wondered what he was doing. If he knew that she was gone. If he regretted that they hadn't talked things out.  
  
Dinner was an elegantly boisterous affair. Afterward, the family gathered in the music room. When Silky handed Lorelei a package with her name written in spidery letters on brown paper, she left the others singing carols and raced upstairs. Her hands shook as she opened the package and lifted out a note and a velvet case holding a strand of pearls.  
  
  
  
Severus paced back and forth in his chambers. He could not concentrate on a book or potions making. His pulse leapt when Slinky appeared in the fireplace and announced, "Miss Lorelei has returned." 


	14. The Return

 

He'd apologised. She had returned. What was he supposed to do now? Send another note, this time requesting to see her? Her quarters were just down the bloody corridor. He could stop by on a pretext; he still had  _The Serpent's Lair_. Pomona had refused to take the book back, saying that after she'd listened to him she'd never be able to read it with a straight face. The Passionata tree would have to make do with listening to her Celestina Warbeck Orpheus Orb collection.  
  
The security ward chimed.  
  
Severus told Slinky, "Leave."  
  
The house-elf jumped into the fireplace and vanished.  
  
Severus opened the door.  
  
Lorelei wore her cloak as if she'd arrived at the school and headed straight to his chambers. She carried no bag. Her holly-green gown was unfamiliar; likely one of many kept at her mother's stately home. He thought of Spinner's End, of the rickety wardrobe propped against the wall of his attic room. The full skirts of her gown wouldn't fit. They'd spill out the way her hair spilled over his pillow.  
  
"May I come in?" she asked.  
  
He retreated. "You received my package?"  
  
She took off her cloak and draped it over the back of the chair he'd conjured when she began visiting his rooms. He had no coat rack. That would indicate he wanted multiple visitors. He conjured a single peg on the wall beside the door and hung up her cloak.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The intensity of emotion conveyed by the words wasn't for the cloak peg. She meant the pearls. He stared at Lorelei's bare throat. "You left the necklace behind?"  
  
"I returned the pearls and diary to their rightful owner."  
  
"Your mother." That was why the handwriting looked like Lorelei's. Jealousy had clouded his mind.

"I was working my courage up to tell you," she said ruefully. "I must have subconsciously left the book in the drawer for you to find the way Marina once left a book on the reproduction system on my bedside table. I wanted you to know without having The Talk. I'm sorry."  
  
"As am I. My words and actions were inexcusable."  
  
"I should have explained." She took a step toward him. "I don't want to let the past come between us anymore. The memory you saw."  
  
"Has no bearing on the present."  
  
Lorelei drew closer. "I want you to know that I wasn't repeating history. I didn't leave the island pregnant." Her eyes searched his face. "Does it make a difference to know Tynan is my father?"  
  
"Why should it?" Better a selkie father than a selkie lover.  
  
She said, "The group you worked for believe in wizard supremacy and purity of blood. They petitioned to have Muggles re-classified as Beasts . . . and petitioned that selkies be reclassified too. Marina listed my father as 'Unknown' because she feared that kind of prejudice, and what would happen if I was labeled half-selkie instead of part-Siren. "  
  
"I never endorsed such extremism." Although he'd never protested it—anyone who did risked loss of favour within Voldemort's inner circle. He said, "Selkies are sentient beings. They have different customs, but they are a part of the wizarding world. I have never said otherwise." The memory of her swimming in the sea raised a question. "Can you transform into a seal?"  
  
"No. I can't even hold my breath underwater for long. I had to use Saltwater Gillyweed." The corners of her mouth tilted up. "I don't even like sushi."  
  
"That's discouraging to hear, since I am regularly accused of being a cold fish."  
  
His attempt to lighten the moment further didn't earn a teasing comeback. Lorelei said, "You won't be cold if you put your arms around me."  
  
She met him halfway.  
  
He feared his hold was too tight, but she pressed closer, turning to rest her cheek against his chest, her arms twined around him, her hands clutching the fabric of his robes. The warmth of comfort flared into a different kind of heat. He tried to ease away. Lorelei burrowed closer. He said, "I don't wish to presume." She stood on tiptoes to kiss him deeply. His hands tightened on her hips. "I'm afraid I would not be gentle."  
  
She nipped his lower lip. "Then we'll try for that later."  
  
  
  
Much later, when they lay in the shadows beyond the reach of the faint light of the bedside candle, Lorelei had almost drifted into sleep when she heard, "May I ask a question?"  
  
The memory. It barely caused her a pang to say, "If it's about the selkie boy, our relationship ended when I said I couldn't marry him. He didn't understand why I wanted more out of life than living in an isolated cottage forever awaiting his return."  
  
"Yes, you were mad to give that up."  
  
His dry tone made her smile. "We spent summers together for years. I won't lie. It hurt," she said, "but I'm happier now than I ever would have been on Hoy. I still spend time with my father."  
  
"I'm glad." He paused and then said, "However, that wasn't my question." He took her giggle as an invitation to ask, "Do you have a last name?"  
  
Lorelei almost said teasingly that she was surprised that he'd waited this long to ask, since he liked to know everything about everyone in the castle. She decided to simply be honest. "Not a legal one. Siren tradition is one name. I got to use three when I worked undercover, though. My Muggle identity was Lora Joan Wilder."  
  
"Sounds like the name of romance writer."  
  
The smirk in his voice made her suspicious. "When have you ever seen a romance novel?"  
  
"I read  _The Serpent's Lair_  to a Passionata tree while Sprout hatched silkworms."  
  
She'd thought he'd used a specific Counter Charm to the spell that broke the necklace. One that worked when  _Reparo_  hadn't. "You restrung the pearls by hand?"  
  
"Knots are simple to tie."  
  
Lorelei brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "Now I almost wish I hadn't given the pearls back."  
  
He said, "Your skin needs no ornamentation."  
  
"Thank you." She sighed. "I definitely wish I'd heard you reading a Gothic romance novel to the Passionata tree."  
  
"I still have the book."  
  
Her hand clutched his.  _Breathe, just breathe_. "Would you read a scene aloud for me?"  
  
He huffed in amusement. "Which scene?"  
  
Her insides were starting to melt. "The one where Rhys catches Helena snooping in his laboratory."  
  
"And chains her to the dungeon wall?"  
  
Her insides felt like a Muggle candle it with a Fire-Making spell: melting dangerously fast. "That's the one. I was, erm, impressed with the thoroughness of his interrogation."  
  
After a few racing heartbeats, Severus asked, "If I use Legilimency to penetrate your mind, what will I see?"  
  
"Me reading the book and imagining that I'm Helena and you're Rhys." In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. "Except that we do more than snog."  
  
Severus rolled off the bed.  
  
Lorelei asked, "Are you getting the book?"  
  
He pulled on his robes. "I am going to my private laboratory hidden behind the bookshelf in the lounge, where I will carelessly leave the secret door ajar. Wait a few minutes before you come snooping. I need to figure out an alternative to shackles and chains."  
  
  
  
On Christmas Eve, the sky above Hogwarts blazed with colour as pinwheels, starbursts, and spirals lit up the night. Severus watched Dumbledore light fireworks in the castle courtyard and reflected that if ever there was a poster-wizard for second childhood, Albus Dumbledore was it. The man's obsession with sweets and woollen socks was disturbing and almost as irritating as the sly twinkle in his eyes at dinner when he'd asked if everyone was enjoying his or her holiday. After the fireworks show, when the children went off to bed and the adults headed for the staff lounge, Severus fell into step with Dumbledore and handed him a small package.  
  
"Why, Severus, thank you. Shall I open it now?"  
  
"Don't bother. You know very well what it is, and it's not a gift. It's your winnings."  
  
"Are you saying you're thankful that I hired Lorelei?"  
  
"The socks are your answer." Severus increased his pace to catch up with his lover.   


  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lora Joan Wilder sounds like the name of a romance writer because Joan Wilder was the name of the romance novelist in the film Romancing the Stone. I made up the name and, er, scene in The Serpent’s Lair. :D


	15. Unexpected Gifts

 

Severus observed Christmas in the dictionary definition of the word. He perceived the holiday as significant to others and fulfilled his obligation as Head of House by eating Christmas dinner in the Great Hall rather than alone in his quarters. He gave no gifts to colleagues. After his first Christmas at Hogwarts, none of the staff except Dumbledore ever gave a gift to him. He preferred it that way. And yet, here he was, wide awake at five in the morning, staring at the present centimetres away on the bedside table.

The rectangular box was too big for a piece of jewellery-thank the stars-yet too small for a piece of clothing. More relief. Could it be a book? The wrapping was a candy-striped pattern of green and silver.

Soft lips pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. "You can open it if you want to," Lorelei said. "Happy Christmas."

"Hmmm."

"What's that? Bah, humbug, Ebeneezer Snape?" Her fingertips danced along his side. "Does the dragon need tickling to get in the holiday spirit?"

He smirked. "Does the dragon need tickling? Is that another one of your cheesy chat up lines?"

Her laughter was accompanied by fingers attacking his ribs, his only vulnerable spot. Lorelei said, "What's that I hear? Father Christmas saying, 'Ho-ho-ho'? You make me feel like singing." She sang a tune about a gang of kids mugging a department store Father Christmas, threatening to beat him up if he didn't hand over his money and telling him to give toys to the little rich boys.

Once Severus turned to face her and captured her hands, he asked, "You consider that a holiday song? By whom?"

"A band called The Kinks."

"Never heard of them." He suspected they were Muggle. He fought a smile. "So you like kink?"

Lorelei's cheeks flushed, even as she said, " _The_  Kinks, and you were the one who repurposed those ties you received as gifts from the other professors." Her cheeky smile softened. "It was nice of you to keep them in a desk drawer instead of throwing them out."

_Nice?_  He'd merely forgotten about them. Severus released his hold on her wrists to brush a curling strand of hair away from her eyes. "I'm pleased you liked the ties. They're your Christmas present."

Lorelei gave him a sultry look. "They are?"

He caught the fingers diving toward his armpit in the nick of time. "Perhaps not."

She kissed him. "Open your gift."

"You first." He nodded toward the table on her side of the bed.

Lorelei turned and gasped at the sight of the green velvet pouch. "You said you avoided the shops at holidays. I thought you'd make me perfume or bubble bath or something." She saw his expression and asked, "Or is that too demeaning for the youngest Potions Master in Britain?"

He said, "I did not think of it."

"Oh." She seemed exorbitantly pleased that he hadn't considered an impersonal gift. She reached for the pouch. "The velvet looks antique."

"You mean old."

"There's a difference." She opened the pouch and lifted out the gold brooch. "It's medieval, isn't it?" Her fingertips traced the letters engraved around the circle.  _JE SVI: ICI EN LV DE AMI._  "What does it say?"

"It's Norman French. 'I am here in place of a lover'."

Lorelei clutched it to her chest.

"Exactly," he said. "It will hold your cloak closed."

"I couldn't. It's too precious. An heirloom."

Her eyes asked a question he refused to answer. Eileen Prince had valued the trinket of her pure-blood family's past glory, bequeathed to him at her death, more than she had valued buying her son decent clothes or the ingredients he'd needed to brew potions over summer holidays. He would gladly see it adorn his lover's cloak. "Nonsense. It's a common amatory brooch." His tone sounded harsh. He added, "For an uncommon woman."

"I love it. Now it's your turn."

He put the gift on the bed between them and slowly ran a finger across the Spellotape to counter the Sticking Charm. He didn't plan to save the paper. His care was a habit instilled by years of his mother's relentless thrift. They had to save wherever they could to offset his father's drinking binges. Plain Christmas wrapping was reused for birthday gifts whenever his mother had the Galleons to spend on anything other than basic necessities.

"You can rip it if you want to," Lorelei said.

Severus tore the paper off, revealing an apothecary case made out of green dragon hide. He sniffed. He detected only the faintest trace of animal skin: a pleasant, leathery aroma. Opened, the case held six vials on each side. Every vial was strapped in by a unique strip of dragon hide. He said, "Twelve types of dragon blood."

"I thought you'd find them useful."

He touched the two vials of darker blood. "The Catalonian Fireball and Portuguese Long-Snout are believed to be extinct."

"They're also suspected of being hybrids instead of true dragons. I suppose you'll find out when you use their blood in a potion. Maybe try a spot remover. That's simple."

She spoke lightly, but he could tell that she didn't want to discuss where she'd found the blood or what price she had paid. Severus said, "Thank you." He touched the case. Dragon hide was impervious to a number of spells. And expensive.

Lorelei said, "The Welsh Green has a distinctively melodious roar. It seemed fitting."

He gave her a dry look. "Melodious."

"Distinctively. And they avoid human contact."

He kissed her.

She sighed. "Except for a maiden given in sacrifice which the dragon consumes."

Severus closed the apothecary case and placed it on the bedside table along with her brooch.

 

Lorelei returned to her own quarters to dress for Christmas dinner. On her bed, next to the Christmas stocking from her mother, was a mound of gifts: unexpected ones. None of the professors remaining over the holidays had mentioned swapping presents, so she'd waited to ask Slinky to deliver her gifts until after the staff party the night before to avoid anyone feeling obligated to reciprocate. It hadn't worked. She picked up a present. Unless her colleagues happened to have miscellaneous presents lying around, they would have had to conjure something or re-gift an item they already owned. Lorelei unwrapped book after book: Transfiguration, Numerology, a guide to reading tea leaves and  _Advanced Rune Translations._ She now had plenty of interesting reading material.

The dish of toffees from Dumbledore looked exactly like the one she'd seen on the table in Severus's lounge on her way out. Hagrid's gift was a tin of treacle fudge, and Flitwick sent a cupcake with a marzipan Christmas tree on top that danced when she opened the box. The final present was a Christmas cactus from Sprout, who had included a card instructing that the  _Schlumbergera_  preferred indirect light, cool temperatures but no drafts, and water only when the soil was dry, and then only to moisten the first five to seven centimetres depth of soil.

After the holidays, the Christmas cactus would be something else returned to its rightful owner.

In the Great Hall, flurries of warm dry snow "melted" before the snowflakes reached the centre table set for the students and staff. One of her Ravenclaw students, a third-year named Brocklehurst, ran up to Lorelei with a Wizarding Cracker. "Since I've already got a poinsettia hair wreath," the girl said, "would you like to pull this cracker with me and see what you get?"

"If you'll keep the gift that falls out," Lorelei said.

Brocklehurst nodded eagerly. They each pulled on their end of the tube wrapped in shiny gold paper and the cracker exploded with a boom. A Viking helmet, a white mouse, and a slip of paper appeared midair. Brocklehurst caught the mouse. "I've always wanted a pet!" she cried.

Lorelei snagged the helmet and put it on. "How do I look?"

The girl giggled and ran to the students gathered by a table laden with sweets and bowls of eggnog, holding up her mouse.

"You look like my perfect match," a male voice said.

Lorelei turned to see Alaric Smalley. He also wore a Viking helmet. It suited him better, with his height and blond hair. He held out one of the cups in his hand. "We should toast the rebirth of the sun goddess and our freedom from the powers of the Underworld with honey wine, but eggnog will do.”

What if she didn't want to be free from the power of the Underworld, or the lover who reminded her of Hades? She accepted the cup. "Thank you for my book."

"That was nothing compared to the divining cloth you gave me."

His smile turned the practical gift into something it wasn't. "You mentioned wanting one with a permanent Dry Cleaning Charm so you could reuse it for each class." He had claimed not to have a knack with cleaning charms.

"But you remembered." He picked up the slip of paper off the floor and read out, "What kind of Viking ship doesn't sink?"

Lorelei took a sip of eggnog. "One that stays on the shore?"

Smalley grinned. "A friend ship!"

She smiled politely and drained the rest of the eggnog in her cup. "This is excellent. More vanilla than I'm used to, but the amount of nutmeg is perfect. I think I'll have one more."

"Allow me."

Anything to put some distance between them. "Thank you, Professor Smalley."

"Alaric, please." He took her cup and sauntered toward the refreshment table.

Lorelei walked as quickly as she could over to the teachers chatting in a group next to one of the Christmas trees. Severus stood at the back. He wore a scowl and a wreath of holly on his head. She headed for the professor closest to him. "Professor Sprout, thank you so much for my Christmas cactus. The flowers are lovely."

Sprout beamed. "Call me Pomona, and thank you for the Bladderwort and Norwegian kelp. Seaweed is one of my favourite fertilisers." Her eyes gleamed impishly when she said, "What a coincidence that you and Alaric got matching hats. All the others are unique."

Pomona had a wreath of berries she'd placed on the crown of her beloved old hat. Severus had his Holly King crown. Lorelei glanced at the other professors. No matching hats. She used a Vanishing Charm on her helmet and grabbed another Christmas cracker from beneath the tree. "Would you like to pull it with me?" she asked Pomona.

They pulled. A wreath of ivy, a tiny sunflower and stars wind spinner, and a scrap of paper appeared with a bang.

"Something for you and something for me," Pomona said, handing Lorelei the ivy wreath and blowing to make the the stars of the wind spinner revolve around the sunflower." The scrap of paper landed near Severus's foot. "Read the joke to us, Severus," Pomona said.

His lips twisted. "It says holly and ivy represent the male and female in nature. Both are needed to bring balance and harmony."

Pomona laughed.

"Is that a gardening joke?" Lorelei asked, trying not to blush or look at Severus.

"A fact, not a joke," Pomona replied. "And yet I find it tremendously funny."

 


	16. Christmas Dinner

 

A huffy intake of breath announced Alaric's return. With his helmet and pout, he resembled a sulky boy more than a professor. He held horns filled with eggnog in each hand. "I transfigured cups into replicas of Viking drinking horns to go with our helmets."

"Impressive spellwork," Lorelei said. She accepted a horn. "They look real."

"They are." He mistook her expression. "Not real Auroch horns, of course.  _Bos primigenius_  became extinct in 1627, but some kind of cattle horn. What happened to your helmet?"

"Traded it," Lorelei said. "Rules. Everyone's supposed to wear a different hat."

Alaric nodded, looking around, and then lifted his horn. "Well, I can still wish you good health, prosperity and happiness.  _Skal_."

"Skal." She took a sip and started to lower the horn. She couldn't get her hand to move.

Sprout said, "You're compelled to drink until it's empty. Last year Sinistra got caught by the Viking Charm. No doubt that's why she's in Finland this year, watching the Northern Lights in an ice igloo."

Alaric was making "Mmmm" sounds as he drank. Lorelei had to fight to keep the eggnog down. It burned as she swallowed, and she knew what she drank wasn't a kid-friendly eggnog flavoured with vanilla. It was an adult concoction spiked generously with alcohol.

"What's in this?" she whispered when she'd emptied the drinking horn.

"White rum and Firewhiskey," Alaric said. He grinned. "Want another?"

Lorelei snatched the drinking horn out of his hand. " _Ligello!"_ Her horn and his glued themselves to his helmet.

"I'd say that was a no," Sprout said.

Alaric took off his helmet. "There's no actual record of Viking helmets having horns." He beamed at Lorelei, "But these look smashing." He put it on his head as though she'd given him a present instead of a brushoff. He turned to the others who had finished their conversations to watch. "Don't I look like Thor?"

Brocklehurst and three other girls giggled behind their hands.

Trumpets sounded.

Dumbledore said, "Dinner is served."

"The children want us to sit with them," Alaric said as he took Lorelei's arm. She looked toward Severus, but he had already chosen a spot at the table between McGonagall and Sprout. The Heads of House gathered together at one end while the other professors and children were relegated below the salt like medieval peasants. She allowed Alaric to steer her toward his giggling admirers. She stumbled and knocked her elbow against the back of Hagrid's chair.

A jolt of pain ran up her arm. "Shite! I mean, dragon dung."

Hagrid's chuckle sounded like that of a giant-sized Father Christmas. "Say the firs', dragon dung is precious." He lowered his voice. "Thanks fer the Norwegian Ridgeback scale. Bin wantin' one fer a long time."

So she'd heard. More than once. Hagrid, the dear, was single minded. "Thanks for the treacly-treat. I mean the fudge-y fudge." She giggled. How silly that sounded.

Alaric tugged her arm. Lorelei smacked at him. "Back off!"

He let go. "We need to take our places so the others can eat."

"Oh." She glumly followed him and sat beside Brocklehurst.

Dumbledore said, "May we be thankful for this meal, thankful for those who prepared it and thankful for those sharing it. Bon Appetit!"

"Chipolata?" Alaric asked, offering Lorelei a plate of sausages wrapped in bacon.

Her stomach turned. "No thanks."

"Roast potatoes, professor?" Brocklehurst asked.

The rosemary and paprika smelled nice. "Yes, please." She took a spoonful and passed the dish of potatoes to her right and then did the same with Brussels sprouts, turkey, buttery peas and cranberry sauce while Alaric nattered on about the book he was writing on the rise and fall of a Very Important Person. He said it was hush-hush top secret, but he'd give her the first autographed copy. She started to nod off, jerked awake, and allowed her gaze to wander down the table to Severus. He was eating his food as if he were alone. They were at the same table, but he was alone, and she was alone, because no one could know they were together. Lorelei stared at his profile. Sadness overwhelmed her.

"You're not eating," Alaric said.

Her throat ached from holding back tears. "I think I need a S'briety Potion."

He chuckled. "Started the party early, did you? You should have invited me to join in."

Her vision blurred. She didn't want anyone but Severus. She turned to look at him, but he was gone. Tears slid down her face. She had to leave before she embarrassed herself. Lorelei started to push back her chair.

_"Drink this."_

Severus's arm brushed her arm as he reached past her to set a flagon on the table. She wanted to touch his hand, to look into his eyes, but instead she whispered, "Thank you," picked up the vial, removed the stopper, and drank.

 

"Why, Severus, how gallant," Sprout murmured when he returned to his seat.

"I suppose I should have allowed her to pass out drunk in front of the children?" he replied.

"Indeed not," Minerva said. "Although she looked more on the verge of weeping when you gave her the Sobriety Potion." She adjusted her velvet pink Flamingo hat that had started to slide.

"Not all of us are happy drunks," Severus said.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed not. I myself have been known to sing  _Danny Boy_."

Sprout guffawed. "I'd pay to hear that."

Dumbledore said, "And I would accept woollen socks, but alas, I sing only in my dreams."

The rattle of plates and dishes turned everyone's attention to the opposite end of the table. Alaric Smalley had cleared off the space in front of Lorelei. He brandished a white cloth and set it on the table top with a flourish. He removed a drawstring pouch from a robe pocket and placed it on the white cloth.

"Your gift, fair lady. Runes carved out of apple wood, representing choice." The Amplifying Charm Smalley used projected his voice for all to hear. "Stand, if you please. Cast all the runes upon the cloth for a glimpse into your past, present, and future."

Lorelei opened the pouch and shook the runes into her hand. She scattered them on the white cloth.

Smalley said, "We're using the Norn method, named after the three sisters who live near the first root of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. The sisters tend the tree with water drawn from the well of Wyrd and spin the fates of gods and men." He told Lorelei, "Pick a rune without looking."

She closed her eye and chose a rune.

Smalley took it from her and held it up for all to see. "Looks like the letter 'p' doesn't it?  _Puriaz._  Means 'giant'. The obstacle rune. Something in your past needs to be cleared out so your destiny can unfold."

Trelawney said, "If I'd known fortune telling was to be the entertainment I would have brought my Tarot cards." She touched her snow globe hat. "Or my crystal ball."

Smalley said smoothly, "I prefer to think of this as a demonstration for the benefit of the students who will be choosing their courses for the next term. The Study of Ancient Runes is more than dusty old runic scripts."

The girls around Smalley giggled.

Lorelei closed her eyes and picked another rune.

"Eager to learn. I like it. Let me know if you want private lessons," Smalley said before examining her rune. He showed it around. "Rather like an 'R', makes it easy to remember  _Raioo_ , symbolising journey and dealing with the present. Also associated with the Norns and their sticky threads of fate." He gave Lorelei a meaningful look. "Your life path is intersecting with others."

"Palm reading could have told her that," Trelawney said.

Lorelei picked up the last rune. Smalley said, "Give it to your other dinner partner." He waited until the girl took the rune and asked, "What does the rune look like to you, Miss Brocklehurst?"

"A lopsided 'n'?"

"Excellent! That rune is  _Uruz_ , meaning aurochs, the wild oxen." He winked at Lorelei. "The rune represents an awareness of death and our own mortality. Boys who killed aurochs entered manhood and were considered initiated into the first mystery of life . . . the knowledge that the source of life is death."

"He's good," Sprout said in an undertone to Severus.

"Ask for private lessons."

She gazed at Smalley like he was a plant she fancied. "I think I will."

Brocklehurst asked, "What does that mean for Professor Lorelei's future?"

Smalley all put purred, "She should live life to the fullest. Chase down every desire."

Dumbledore stood. "Thank you, Professor Smalley, for your entertaining demonstration." He waved his hand and the remains of Christmas dinner vanished. Dessert plates, new cutlery and wine glasses appeared on the cleared table. Platters of flaming Christmas puddings floated above the table and then lowered to the tablecloth.

The children clapped.

Severus covertly watched Lorelei shove runes into the pouch and hand Smalley his divining cloth.

"She looks like a Fanged Geranium ready to give a nasty bite," Sprout said. "Luckily, I always carry a tin of healing paste."

He pretended to have no idea what Pomona was going on about. When Dumbledore extinguished the cognac flames with a flick of his fingers and slices of Christmas pudding glided onto each plate, Severus left the Great Hall.

After pacing his quarters, he decided to test the blood of the Catalonian Fireball. Lorelei's suggested Spot Remover Potion required an hour to simmer. He didn't have the patience to wait that long. He thought over the various uses of dragon's blood and chose to make incense. If it cleared the negative energy he was undoubtedly giving off worse than Smalley's noxious musk cologne, the Fireball was a true dragon.

Severus went to the cupboard in his private laboratory and gathered lemongrass, frankincense, sandlewood, bark of the Machillus Thunbergii tree for a base and resin from the benzoin tree as a fixative. The act of grinding ingredients into powder soothed. He combined the powders in the mortar and added a few drops of Catalonian Fireball blood and then water from a pipette dropper, stirring with his pestle until the mixture was the consistency needed to form cones of incense. He cast a Drying Charm, turned the cones on their sides, and cast the Drying Charm once more.

He stored half the incense in a tin and placed the other half around his lounge, bedroom, and bath. He lit the tips of the cones, allowed them to burn for a few moments, and then blew out the flames. Tendrils of smoke curled into the air. He sat down in a chair with the biography of Libatius Borage. Soon, he was so relaxed that he decided to read in bed.

"It smells like Christmas," Lorelei said when she entered the bedroom. "You made incense?"

She'd taken off her robes, and her green cashmere jumper dress revealed bare thigh above her knees. Severus approved. He patted the bed. "Come see what else I've done, or rather, what Slinky did. I thought he might refuse my request, but then he breathed in the Catalonian Fireball incense that dispels negativity." He pointed to the ceiling. "When I lived with my parents, I shot down flies and vowed that one day I'd have my own enchanted ceiling."

"And shoot down stars?" She kicked off her shoes and stretched out beside him.

He flicked his wand. A star split in two and became stardust. "At least the stars aren't alive."

"These aren't, but the ones in the sky might be a different story."

If the incense didn't make negativity impossible, he would have sneered. "Stars have no life, no magic. I made a wish out loud on a falling star and it still came true."

"Did you tell the wish to other people?"

"No."

"That's why it still came true." Lorelei smiled invitingly. "You can tell people afterwards."

"I refuse to foster belief in superstition." Stardust glittered in her hair and on her cheek. "I make my own choices." He brushed the stardust off her skin. "Recently, they have been good ones . . . like my decision to bring you a Sobriety Potion."

Lorelei scooted closer until she was pressed against his side. "I'll never drink eggnog again."

"I thought Smalley was putting you to sleep with his chatter, but then you appeared bored to tears."

"I did wish he'd stop talking about his soon-to-be bestselling account of how runes predicted the rise and fall of the most influential wizard of our time, but then I saw you were gone and I was so sad I cried." She spoke matter-of-factly: the effect of the incense.

Severus idly wondered if the "most influential wizard" was Voldemort. He asked, "Do you know what I'd like to do right now?"

"What?"

"I want to fall asleep with you lying beneath the stars."

Lorelei sighed. "I want to take a nap with you too."

 


	17. Anti Valentines

 

The holidays ended and students returned to try Severus's patience. As temperatures lowered, murmurs that his dungeon would be less miserable if it was heated increased. He took House points from anyone who complained louder than a whisper. Balmy temperatures would not rid him of wretched incompetents or improve his students' limited abilities to focus.

His own thoughts were preoccupied with solving the puzzle of Lorelei's comments about Alaric Smalley. Was the man vain enough to believe he could get away with writing a book about the rise and fall of the Dark Lord? If so, did he actually have a publishing contract, or was he talking out of his arse?

Weeks passed without Severus finding an opportunity to perform Legilimency. Smalley sat too far away at the staff table to make casual eye contact. Severus chose the seat in front of Lorelei at staff meetings on the pretext that he wanted to be able to turn and look at her when Smalley sat next to her and chatted in his overloud voice. When he turned around, however, Smalley was too oblivious of his disapproving stare to glance away from his object of interest. Lorelei always met Severus's eyes and smiled. If she was aware of the true reason for his subterfuge, she didn't bring it up in conversation.

After the first staff meeting in February ended, Severus frowned at Smalley for offering to book the centre table at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop the following Sunday so Lorelei could experience the establishment's famous Valentine's Tea.

"That's kind of you," Lorelei said, "but I'd already planned on inviting few ladies to join me. For a laugh, Anti-Valentines sort of thing."

"You've been hurt. It's all clear now," Smalley said. He patted her hand. "I can wait."

On the other side of Smalley, Sprout leaned across him slightly to ask, "Your treat, Lorelei?"

"Yes, of course, Pomona."

"Then I'll come along, and I'll pass the word to Trelawney and Vector. Neither of them should have plans. Meet at Puddifoot's at four o'clock?"

"Yes, lovely." Lorelei rose. "I'll go owl Madam Puddifoot right away."

Sprout nimbly maneuvered in front of Smalley. "We should let her go alone," she said. "Women need time by themselves when they've gone through what she's gone through."

"Did her lover die?" Smalley asked. He seemed torn between wanting to appear sympathetic and wanting to hear juicy gossip.

"It isn't my secret to tell," Sprout said, managing to imply that she knew everything when she knew absolutely nothing.

"You're a true friend," Smalley replied. He smiled down at her. "Let me escort you to your chambers."

Her gleeful eyes flickered to Severus before she said, "If you insist."

 

Severus waited for Lorelei in her quarters. She walked in smiling. "I stopped by your chambers, and Tristan and Isolde told me you'd gone to mine. They acted huffy about it, as though you'd chosen the Siren over them."

He was in no mood to chat about the proprietary quirks of magical paintings. "You couldn't tell Smalley you weren't interested? You had to create an excuse?"

Lorelei's face fell. "You planned something for Valentine's Day."

"A Muggle holiday instituted to sell cards, flowers, and chocolates? No. Other than dinner together."

She smiled. "Don't worry, I won't let tea spoil my appetite." She hung up her robes and sat beside him on the sofa. "My cousin Ursula threw an Anti-Valentines party last year. Mostly we ate sweets and bashed on her ex. I thought something like that might help me get to know some of the other professors better. I can ask about their hobbies. See if we have anything in common."

_Ask about their hobbies._ He could use that approach on Smalley.

"What's that smirk for? You don't think we'll have any common interests to talk about?"

Severus said the first thing that came to mind. "They are older than you."

Lorelei gave him a dry look. "Until Piper, my best mate was my mother, remember?"

He said, "Point taken."

 

Severus perused the staff schedule and walked into the Ancient Runes classroom on Thursday as the last class of the day filed out. On Tuesday, he'd made the mistake of waiting five minutes after class officially dismissed to approach. Smalley had already left. On this day, his target still crammed student essays into a monogrammed leather satchel.

"Professor Snape! To what do I owe this honour?" Smalley asked while he closed the satchel and buckled the straps.

"I'm here to ask your advice."

Smalley looked up.

Eye contact was all Severus needed to perform nonverbal Legilimency. He saw Smalley perusing an advert for Heigh-Ho Singing Valentines in  _Standing Stones_  magazine.

"You want the name of my Hair Potion," Smalley said. "I'm afraid it wouldn't work for you. I've got normal hair, and yours is oily."

"It's about runes." He glimpsed and discarded memories of Smalley singing in front of a mirror and trying to worm Lorelei's secrets out of Sprout, who appeared to enjoy the way "dear Alaric" stretched out the syllables of her name into "Po-moan-aaah."

"You want a glimpse into your past, present and future?"

"No. I'm thinking of buying a set of runes. Do you recommend wood or animal bone?"

Smalley sat in his chair and leaned back, a knowing expression on his face. "You saw how enchanted Lorelei was with my gift, didn't you?"

Severus ignored Smalley's deluded imagining that Lorelei had batted her eyelashes and simpered her thanks and delved between the cluttered layers of thoughts, fantasies, and remembrances to unearth the images he wanted: a brief flash of Smalley signing a contract with Wizard Press Ltd. and another, more recent memory of Smalley brushing snow off his cloak before winking at a publishing assistant and handing over the first chapters of his manuscript  _Rune Bound: The Predicted Rise and Fall of He Who Must Not Be Named (working title)._

Smalley shook his head as if shaking away the random thoughts and said, "I've seen you and Pomona chatting. If you think she'll give it up for runes, you're better off spending Galleons on Hair Potions and Appearance Charms. That witch goes for looks." He grinned. "Not that I blame her, although I'm not as picky. In fact, if our  _earthy_ professor was a few stones lighter and had the gold of a certain shareholder in the Siren Corporation, I might give you some competition." He chuckled. "I don't mind a little dust on the bottle, as long as what's inside is even dirtier." He gave Severus a you-know-what-I-mean look and unwittingly projected his thoughts.

_Pomona and Smalley wrestling in a pit of mud. Naked. Pomona and Smalley and Lorelei wrestling in mud . . . ._

Severus concentrated. Lorelei in Smalley's fantasy was replaced by the image of Smalley's mother.

Smalley scrunched his eyes closed and shuddered.

"The runes would not be a gift for anyone other than myself," Severus said. "But on further thought, my potions research leaves no time for acquiring hobbies."

Smalley jumped to his feet. "You won't tell anyone what I said about Pomona, will you? She's not my dream witch, but a bird in the mud, uh, hand is better than no bird, if you take my meaning."

"I do." Severus left before he gave into the urge to use Memory Charms to eradicate the cretin's interest in anything other than his reflection in the mirror. Instead of heading toward his quarters, he went to the owlery, where he used the stationery provided to write a note detailing Smalley's upcoming publishing debut. He used a spell to seal the envelope, gave it to a barn owl capable of flying distances, and said, "Lucius Malfoy. Wiltshire, England."

 

Lorelei had second thoughts about handing Severus a valentine as they ate breakfast in bed, but by that time he was already pulling the card from the envelope. The idea had seemed so amusing. She'd drawn a glass beaker with two tiny red hearts on the cover, and inside wrote:

_Let's get together, Valentine. I'll bring my beaker and you bring your stirring rod._

"Unbearably cheesy?" she asked.

"It stirred up a few ideas." He opened the bedside table drawer and handed her a vial filled with a red liquid.

"Should I drink it now?"

"If you like."

She put the vial to her lips and then lowered it. "Should you put the breakfast tray on the floor?"

His lips twitched. "It isn't an aphrodisiac."

"I didn't think-OK, maybe I did." Lorelei drank the potion. The room instantly appeared filled with flowers.

"You kept singing  _Everything is Coming Up Roses._ I thought it suitable," Severus said.

A flush of heat washed over her at the sight of her lover stretched out on a bed of deep red roses.

The breakfast tray ended up on the floor.

 

At lunch, only first and second year students ate in the Great Hall. Their housemates, even those without valentines, were enjoying the day in Hogsmeade. Staff who hadn't gone into the village or off for the weekend were encouraged to eat at the staff table and provide supervision to the students left behind. Lorelei was surprised to see Alaric Smalley until he caught her eye and pointed to the doors that had opened for the dwarf dressed in a toga and carrying a bow and arrow. The dwarf Cupid marched past the giggling students and stopped in front of her.

"You Lorelei?"

She said, "Yes, if you want to sing me a song, let's go out in the corridor."

"Not my instructions, lady."

She avoided glancing at Severus when the dwarf sang in a surprisingly cheerful tenor voice:

There are blues that you get from worry,  
There are blues that you get from pain.  
There are blues when you're single and just want to mingle  
And blues when you have to abstain;  
There are blues that you get from sleepless nights,  
But the bluest blues to me,  
Are the blues that make me hot and cold and make me want to shiver  
And make me want to end it all by jumping in the river,  
Are the blues my naughty sweetie gives to me, gives to me.  
The blues my naughty sweetie gives to me.

"That was . . . really something," Lorelei said when the dwarf finished. "Thank you."

"Thank your secret admirer," the dwarf shot back and stomped out of the hall.

She escaped the laughter of her students and peers through the side staff entrance.

Alaric followed her. "Wait! Don't you want to thank your admirer?"

Lorelei snapped, "For embarrassing me? No."

He said peevishly, "You should be proud. When I become a celebrity author, I won't be teaching at this school anymore, and women will be sending  _me_  valentines. _"_

"I hope that day comes soon."

Alaric stared off lost in his vision of the future. "It will," he said. "I'm five chapters away from fame."

 

"So you told Smalley he should be writing instead of chatting and he just went on his way?" Severus asked when she stopped by his quarters before leaving the castle.

"Yes." She looked into his eyes as she kissed him goodbye so Severus could "see" her memory of casting a  _Confundus_  Charm.

 

Madam Puddifoot's was "a pink nightmare" according to Pomona, who fortified herself against the sight of garish decorations and teenagers holding hands and even snogging at the other tables with hothouse cucumber sandwiches with orange-mint butter. Sybil Trelawney, after apologising for her dangling heart earrings and pink scarf, nibbled at a scone with strawberry jam but no clotted cream. She was on a reducing diet. Septima Vector, the seventh of eight children, kept a hand over her teacup to block the confetti tossed down by floating cherubs and passed around the latest photos of her twenty-six nieces and nephews. One of her youngest nephews had her classic Roman nose.

"He's adorable," Lorelei said.

Pomona snorted. "The little bugger's scowling. Nothing adorable about that."

"Septimus is my namesake," Septima replied. "And my godson."

"In that case, he's the cutest thing I ever did see." Pomona tossed a pink macaroon across the table to Lorelei. "Almost as cute as that dwarf with the singing valentine." Sybil and Septima had no idea what Pomona was talking about since they rarely ate in the Great Hall. Pomona filled them in.

Sybil's eyes behind her red framed glasses widened. "How romantic."

Pomona shook her head. "Alaric is a handsome fool."

Septima said, "I would have hexed him the moment he stepped into the staff corridor."

"I waited a few moments," Lorelei said.

She smiled when the other women laughed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun turning a chemistry pick up line for a guy to say to a girl around to be a valentine from Lorelei to Severus. Since I wanted to use song lyrics and not infringe on someone's copyright, I went looking for a song in the public domain and heard dwarves sing Heigh-ho! when I came across Blues My Naughty Sweetie Gives to Me, by Carey Morgan and Charles McCarron. The title alone was awesome, but the lyrics were just what I needed. Anyone interested can find the song on youtube. I liked Jim Kweskin "Blues My Sweetie Gives to Me" at The Coffee Gallery Backstage version.


	18. Wyrd Happens

 

Severus sent Lucius Malfoy a letter informing him that Alaric Smalley claimed to be "five chapters from fame." Although the Dark Lord's inner circle of Death Eaters waited for their master's return to gather openly, Lucius remained a key member of wider, still active group of supporters who called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis. He used his wealth to buy influence not only within the group, but at the highest levels of the Ministry. If anyone could kill a book deal, he could.

 

A week later, the building housing Wizard Press Ltd. burned to the ground.

 

Smalley acted as though a family member had died. A rumour spread through the school that Professor Smalley had been caught sobbing in the girls' lavatory to Moaning Myrtle.

 

The female staff gathered around Sprout like soldiers flanking a wounded comrade. Severus managed to use Legilimency for the briefest glimpse of what had turned his colleague's admiration of Smalley to pained disgust. Smalley sitting on a sofa with Sprout, his head on her chest, crying, "Why me, Po-moan-aah!" as she stroked his hair: He must have gone directly from Sprout to the ghost of a randy teenager. At the next staff meeting, when Smalley sat down in the chair next to him, Severus got up and moved.

 

Smalley's dragging about in self-pity abruptly ended mid-March, when an owl delivered a letter at lunch. He ripped it open, read the contents, and shouted, "I have a new publisher! He wants me to do a book tour with Gilderoy Lockhart!"

 

"Congratulations," Flitwick, said.

 

Some of the students applauded.

 

Smalley clapped the smaller professor on the shoulder so heartily that Flitwick almost fell out of his chair. "Thank you, Filius." Smalley beamed at the students. "Thank you all. I'd love to stay and answer your many questions, but I have to go owl my acceptance."

 

Severus waited until his next class had begun brewing their potions to go to the owlery and notify Lucius of the latest turn of events.

 

That night, when he would normally have drifted off to sleep, his mind insisted on listing all the possible consequences of Smalley's actions. A robbery at the publisher's office instead of arson, the CEO of the publishing house blackmailed or bewitched to cancel the deal; an order for Severus to use Memory Charms to make Smalley decide to teach runes to trolls instead of becoming an author.

 

"I can almost hear the wheels in your brain spinning," Lorelei said. He heard the smile in her voice when she asked, "Are you worried that none of your fifth-years will perform well enough on their OWLs to take NEWT-level Potions?"

 

"Yes, I'm so eager for them to Exceed Expectations."

 

She didn't giggle at his dry tone. She said, "You do raise the bar very high. Some students have test anxiety, and other Potions professors accept Outstanding scores."

 

Severus used a nonverbal spell to light the candle on the bedside table. "Did you receive Outstanding?" He looked into her eyes, asked, "May I?" and at her nod saw the memory of a sweaty-faced examiner hovering over her shoulder as she concocted an Invigoration Draught.

 

"I think he wanted me to fail," Lorelei said.

 

"Or he was trying to look down your robes."

 

She smiled. "He did keep remarking how hot it was."

 

The security ward on the entrance to her chambers jangled like wind chimes.

 

"Oh, Merlin," Lorelei said. "I hope it's not Alaric wanting to celebrate."

 

Severus lifted an eyebrow.

 

She said, "He mentioned it when we passed in the main corridor this afternoon."

 

"His classroom is on the sixth floor."

 

"Yes, I know." She went to the wardrobe, selected a high necked flannel nightdress out of a drawer, put it on, and then covered it with a dressing gown.

 

Severus said, "I've never seen that nightdress before."

 

"That's because you keep me warm." She tied her sash in a knot. "There. No more being nice, no more excuses. He was a bastard to Pomona, and I'm telling him to shove off once and for all." Chin up, shoulders back, she marched out of the bedroom after taking her wand out of the bed table drawer.

 

Severus pulled on a dressing gown and followed.

 

When she opened the door to her chambers, Smalley's voice rang out, "Hey, lookit me! I got a Thor helmet and Thor hair now! Fili cast the Growin' Charm. Told 'im I wanted to make tonight special for my dungeon dwelling goddess." Giggles spilled out--from the Siren in the guardian painting. Smalley said, "Mermaid lady loves my Thor dance. It's all in the hips."

 

Lorelei grimaced. "Alaric, even if you weren't drunk I wouldn't be interested. Go away."

 

"But Thor wants to celebrate."

 

"Dance with Moaning Myrtle."

 

"All righty."

 

Lorelei shut the door.

 

"Another Compulsion Charm?" He stared at her mouth instead of her eyes to avoid any accidental projection of Smalley's "Thor dance." Her lips turned down at the corners. "What's wrong?" he asked.

 

"Alaric told Filius he was celebrating with me. What if Filius tells someone else? I can't bear for Pomona to think I'd choose that _amadan_ over a friend."

 

Severus had spent enough years in Scotland to know the Gaelic word meant fool. He said, “I'll take care of it."

 

"How?"

 

"I'll start a new rumour about Smalley and Moaning Myrtle."

 

 

 

A few derisive words in Argus Filch's ear before breakfast, and by the next evening the whole school gossiped about Professor Smalley's party for two with Moaning Myrtle. Smalley, the narcissist, seemed pleased to be the centre of attention. His ghostly dance partner floated around the halls smiled coyly when girls asked her questions or else tittered behind her hand.

 

A week later, Prefects caught two Hufflepuff seventh-years demonstrating inappropriate levels of affection in an unused classroom, and Smalley and Myrtle's dancing became old news. Then the upcoming holidays became the most discussed topic at Hogwarts. Severus had received no word from Lucius. The lack of communication annoyed him at first, but upon reflection he decided it was better not to know what Lucius had planned.

 

And then he received a letter, no return address, no writing on the outer envelope, nothing to reveal its sender except the distinctive lack of slant to the precisely connected letters of seven words on parchment.

 

_Drink at The Three Broomsticks until midnight._

 

 

 

Lorelei's morning class of first-year History of Magic students were understandably restless. Tomorrow was the start of Easter holidays. To get the attention of those who didn't appreciate the contributions of Joseph Pinetti, the eighteenth century wizard who became famous in the Muggle world as the Professor of Natural Magic, she performed a variation of one of his "illusions".

 

Instead of conjuring an orange tree that grew in front of the students' eyes, she grew a tree bedecked with chocolate eggs. She passed out egg cups and spoons so each child could crack the shell like a three minute egg and scoop out the runny sea salt caramel "yolk" inside. Everything went well until one of the Gryffindor boys realised that his caramel could become a sticky weapon and started flinging it at classmates. Pandemonium ensued. Once the children were out of ammunition, they stared at Lorelei with caramel-streaked, worried faces. She used Cleaning Charms and made them put their heads down in silence for the rest of the period.

 

Her last class of the day, third-year Potions, was nicely behaved. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs went quietly about brewing the Wiggenweld Potion while she read aloud the story of the princess awakened from a magical sleep in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. From time to time, Lorelei checked the cauldrons. All glowed faintly green.

 

Harwich, one of the Ravenclaw girls, mentioned a Muggle tale: Sleeping Beauty. A lively discussion broke out over whether Beedle's tales had somehow influenced Muggle fairy tale authors, or whether Beedle, like the Muggle Grimm Brothers, had collected tales from various sources and put his own stamp on them. Knighton, a Hufflepuff boy, insisted that Beedle was too noble to borrow from anyone else's work, and at the most, he was simply inspired by others. Harwich laughed. Knighton's face grew as red as his cauldron.

 

His cauldron!

 

Blood red potion spouted upward like a geyser and then transformed into mist. Lorelie cried, "Evanesco!" but it was too late. Knighton had breathed it in. "It was pink a moment ago," he said. "I was about to add . . . salamander . . . ."

 

"A salamander wouldn't do you any good," Harwich jeered. "You needed salamander blood."

 

Knighton walked toward Harwich. "I need."

 

"Need what? Brains? I agree," Harwich said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

 

Lorelei said, "Mr. Knighton, return to your table." A secondary effect of the Wiggenweld Potion was stamina. Had the botched potion increased the boy's stamina for debate?

 

Knighton kissed Harwich.

 

"Um, Professor Lorelei?" another student—Brocklehurst—said nervously. "Look."

 

Every cauldron in the class was turning red. "Use a Vanishing Charm on your potions!"

 

Brocklehurst said, "We're third years. We don't know how."

 

Lorelei yelled, "It's time to learn!"

 

 

 

Lorelei was lying in the dark with a wet flannel over her eyes when she heard:

 

"Teaching third-years fifth year magic. Are you vying for McGonagall's position?"

 

"I was desperate." Severus sat beside her. She felt the mattress dip a little before it magically conformed to his body. A pleasing blend of scents: honey Echinacea, a mix of pine and fresh cut hay—wild hops—and sweet elderflower clung to his robes. "Did your seventh-years brew Pepperup Potion?"

 

"Yes. Why do you have a flannel over your eyes?"

 

"I didn't want to see you gloating." Lorelei peeked. Severus smirked. She threw the flannel onto the floor. "I suppose you think I deserved my comeuppance."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I was so proud of my record, and now it's gone." Her lips twitched. "I never dreamt that the improved stamina side effect could mean romantic stamina."

 

"Any potion left?"

 

She had to laugh. "No. The children were so determined not to end up like Knighton and Harwich, they performed brilliantly."

 

"You're lucky they weren't fifth-years. They would have fought to become romantically infected."

 

Lorelei trailed her fingertips up his thigh. "Want to stay in and brew Wiggenwald Potion in your laboratory? Let it overheat before the final ingredient and see how it improves our stamina?" She saw the regret in his eyes. "Let me guess. You wish you could, but you have research to do."

 

"Unfortunately. I won't return until after midnight."

 

At least he wanted to be with her. "Will you have dinner with me before you go?"

 

"Here?" He gave her a knowing look. "You have to face Minerva sooner or later."

 

"Later. Sybil sent a note warning that bad luck come in threes."

 

"Superstition."

 

Lorelei grasped his robes and pulled him down to her. "Kiss me for luck anyway."

 

 

 

By eleven o'clock, Lorelei was too tired to continue reading _The Mask of the Enchantress._ She set the novel aside and used a nonverbal spell to lower the candle's flame from a reading light to a soft glow. The security ward started to chime and then abruptly halted. She got out of bed and put on a dressing gown.

 

The bedroom door opened. Alaric Smalley walked in. He gripped a wand with one hand and held an un-stoppered vial filled with clear liquid in the other.

 

"How did you get in?" she asked. If she distracted him, she could grab her wand.

 

"I threatened your guardian painting with mineral spirits. The Siren's lover couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He blurted out the password speedily." Alaric pointed his wand at her. "Don't move, please." His voice was eerily calm, yet sweat beaded his lip and rolled down his temples.

 

"You don't want to hurt me." She tried to keep her voice low. Soothing.

 

Alaric said, "No, he didn't tell me to harm you. He told me to come to your room."

 

"Who is 'he'?"

 

"Not a publisher. There's no golden boys tour with Lockhart. He didn't even buy me a drink at the Hog's Head." His unconcerned expression sent a chill of fear down her spine.

 

"You're bewitched." It was more than a Compulsion Charm. "Imperiused." She kept her eyes on his while she slowly reached toward the bed table drawer.

 

"Stop." His hand shook.

 

She said, "Don't let a Dark wizard control you! Fight the spell!"

 

For a moment, she had hope, and then Alaric's body relaxed. His expression became peaceful. Almost happy. "I have to be punished. I have to obey."

 

Mineral spirits were poison. " _Accio_ wand!" she cried.

 

His wand flew towards her as Alaric raised the vial to his lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed using Harry's reflection that it was quite easy to brew the Invigoration Draught without Snape around and showing that Draco wasn't the first boy to cry to Myrtle. Joseph Pinetti was a magician famous for more than the orange tree illusion, but anyone who's seen the film The Illusionist knows why I chose that one (besides the practical, fits the story reason, heh. Edward Norton's character demonstrates quite well that snarky and sneaky and intense and brilliant added together equals sexy). JKR stating that she was inspired by Chaucer's Canterbury Tales writing her Tales of Beedle the Bard made me want to include a reference to it in the discussion turned into a Potions disaster. The "improved stamina side effect" came from HP Wiki. The potion gives stamina in HP video games. 
> 
> I added another Lockhart reference at the end of the chapter to make sure it's clear that Smalley isn't Lockhart, he's just another handsome fool, who actually reminds me of a blond-haired Captain Hammer type from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog (Vain, silly, cheesy, and cries) Anyone interested can watch the youtube clip "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog A Man's Gotta Do" to see (and hear) for yourself. :)


	19. Long Night

 

" _Evanesco_!" The vial disappeared, but Alaric had already swallowed the contents. He dropped to his knees and fell to the side. She threw down his wand and snatched her own out of the drawer. " _Adiuvare!_ " Red sparks shot off in three directions.

 

Slinky was the first to answer her call for help.

 

She said, "Get the bezoar from my potions stores cupboard." The cupboard was protected by Anti-Summoning Charms. "Now!"

 

She knelt beside Alaric and checked his pulse. He didn't have one. "No." Lorelei pushed him onto his back and pressed her linked hands hard and fast against the centre of his chest. He should be gasping for air. Convulsing. He didn't move. Didn't breathe.

 

Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey rushed into the room. Dumbledore was still dressed in wizard robes. Pomfrey wore a floral dressing gown.

 

Slinky appeared with the bezoar. Lorelei grabbed it and shoved the lumpy stone-like clump of hair and undigested matter down Alaric's throat. There were no chemical burns on his lips. No holes in the skin or tissues. "Why isn't it working? It should be working."

 

Pomfrey waved her waved her wand in an intricate pattern. The tip of her wand glowed faintly and winked out. "Professor Smalley is dead."

 

Dumbledore said, "Bezoars save lives. Regretfully, they cannot resurrect them."

 

"I thought he drank a vial of mineral spirits," Lorelei said. "He threatened the Siren with mineral spirits to get in." Alaric would never become a celebrity author. Never have women send him valentines. Never again try to impress a girl with his Viking Charm. Anger rose. Being a fool shouldn't earn a death sentence. "You have to contact the Auror Office. Someone he met at the Hog's Head Imperiused him to drink poison."

 

"In your chambers?" Dumbledore asked. "Why?"

 

"I don't know."

 

Pomfrey said, "If he drank poison, where's the vial?"

 

"I used a Vanishing Charm." Oh, gods that sounded terrible, like she'd disposed of evidence after committing a crime. Lorelei turned to Dumbledore. "Use Legilimency. You'll see that I only tried to save his life."

 

Before she'd finished speaking, images rose in her mind. Kissing Severus goodbye . . . Alaric barging in…The terrible realisation that he was Imperiused…The moment he lost the battle to live….

 

"Thank you, my dear," Dumbledore said. He handed her a handkerchief.

 

She hadn't realised that she was crying: strange how tears could roll down her face without her knowing. The handkerchief had a small monogram in one corner. Lorelei traced the yellow "A" with a fingertip. "Do you embroider?"

 

"It was a gift."

 

"It's lovely." She wiped her eyes. "I hate to soil it. I'll cast a Cleaning Charm."

 

Dumbledore said gently, "I have to take your wand and Professor Smalley's into custody until Aurors document the spells cast by each wand."

 

"You can take Alaric's," Lorelei said, "but I'm not allowing anyone to document all the spells I've cast. They have nothing to do with what happened here, and some are . . . personal . . . in nature." Dumbledore had seen her with Severus. He had to know what she implied, although her true motive was to hide her undercover Ministry work. "Can't you vouch for me?"

 

He nodded. "Slinky will gather your things, and Madam Pomfrey will help you dress and escort you to my office. The authorities will interview you there and take your statement." He strode out of the room.

 

Lorelei fought the urge to giggle hysterically. She was supposed to pick out an outfit with a corpse in her bedroom?

 

"Here is clothes Professor Lorelei wears before." Slinky held out her Anti-Valentine's Day outfit. Black and grey suited the bleakness of her mood.

 

"Thank you." She took the pile of clothes and added underclothes to the stack. "I'll go change in the lounge." They accompanied her and turned their backs to give her privacy. Slinky was left to ensure no one disturbed the body while Madam Pomfrey escorted her through up to the third floor, through the Gargoyle Corridor to the guarded entrance to the Headmaster's Tower.

 

"The gargoyle statue has never moved aside without a password before," Pomfrey said as they climbed.

 

"There's been a murder," Lorelei replied.

 

Pomfrey said, "A tragic death."

 

Lorelei stopped short. Was that agreement, or implying belief that Alaric's death was suicide? She looked over her shoulder. "He was forced to kill himself. He didn't do it of his own free will."

 

"As I said before, it was a tragedy."

 

Lorelei raced up the stairs.

 

Dumbledore lifted his gaze from the silver device whirring around on his desk top when she burst into the room. "Ah, to be young and fit with good knees."

 

She asked between gulps of air, "Do you . . . believe . . . Alaric was under the Imperius Curse?"

 

"Yes, I do."

 

Lorelei jabbed a finger at the doorway. "She doesn't."

 

"Madam Pomfrey hasn't seen what I've seen. Circumstantial evidence paints a different picture." He gestured to one of the visitor's chairs. "Have a seat. I'm afraid it will be a long night." He glanced toward the doorway. "Do come in, Poppy. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

 

"Don't see why I can't go back to bed until the Aurors arrive."

 

"They'll arrive shortly." Floor to ceiling bookcases slide apart to reveal a sitting area. "You'll find the settee quite comfortable."

 

Lorelei went to stand by a window. Dumbledore joined her.

 

"In the daylight you can see Gryffindor Tower," he said.

 

"I remember." When Marina brought her along on visits, she'd explored the office while the adults talked. "Do you remember allowing me to see a memory in your Pensieve?"

 

_Students  watching his demonstration . . . eyes bright, grinning in eagerness . . . turning desks into pigs . . . chasing them around the classroom . . . everyone laughing._

He said, "It surprised me, your wish to see a class from a teacher's prospective."

 

"I knew I could never be a student."

 

Dumbledore smiled a little. "Mature reasoning for a ten-year-old."

 

"And more than a bit of fantasy." Her own smile was wry. "Students aren't always keen to learn." She glanced past him. All the shiny amazing things in his office and none of them appeared to be a clock. "Do you have the time?"

 

He checked his pocket watch. "Midnight."

 

 

 

Severus ordered a Firewhiskey at the bar and carried it to the table in the back corner of the pub. A break from usual habit would arouse curiosity, and later, possibly suspicion. Madam Rosmerta proved his point when she strolled over with a bottle of Ogden’s Finest.

 

“Haven’t seen you around lately,” she said as she poured Firewhiskey into his glass without asking if he desired another round. “Someone keepin’ you busy?”

 

“Research.”

 

Her laugh drew appreciate stares from male patrons. “Is that what professors call it?”

 

He refused to dignify the comment with a response.

 

She rapped a knuckle against the oak table top. “I’ll still wish you luck.”

 

_Kiss me for luck anyway._

“Why?” The question slipped out, surprising him as much as Rosmerta. He decided to press further. “What is the appeal of believing that something will happen by chance or fate rather than from one’s own actions?”

 

She splashed another dram of Firewhiskey into his glass. “Luck is fate. The Fates are women. Women have more sense than men, so I wish you luck.”

 

Severus took a sip of Firewhiskey and dismissed her illogical reasoning. She gave him a cheeky grin and moved away to serve another customer on her way back to the bar. He thought about Lorelei. She didn’t believe mythical Fates controlled their lives. Her desire for “luck” was a veiled need for reassurance. She might as well have asked him to tell her everything would be all right. Giving her a kiss was better than telling her a lie.

 

Alaric Smalley would learn the consequences of his actions that night.

 

More and more villagers crowded into the pub. Severus lifted his hand to signal the need for another round in order to ask Rosmerta, “Is there some special occasion?” It wasn’t a hen or stag party. There were too many couples.

 

“It’s something new. Give a listen.”

 

Near the front windows, a dark-haired wizard with the weathered look of a farmer stood and said, amplified by a Sonorous Charm, “I’m Robbie McInnis. The missus and I went to London and heard about this new thing called Karaoke where you spin an Orpheus Orb that’s just music and sing a song. We brought a few Karaoke Orbs back, and from the crowd, quite a few of you are interested in having a go.”

 

“I’m here for laughs!” a woman yelled.

 

“Thanks, darlin’,” McInnis said.

 

A wizard at a table near Severus said, “That’s the missus.”

 

“Since this was my idea,” McInnis said, “I’ll go first.” He spun an orb and sang, “ _Some friends and I in a public house, we’re playing dominoes one night . . . ._ ”

 

The song was the tale of villagers sneaking into the cellar of a pub called the Old Dun Cow after the establishment caught fire. While firemen put out the blaze, villagers had “a grand old spree.” The lyrics were mildly amusing:

 

_Oh, there was Brown, upside down,_

_Mopping up the whiskey on the floor._

_“Booze, booze!” the firemen cried_

_As they come a knockin' at the door._

_Well don't let em in till it's all mopped up;_

_Somebody shouted, “McIntyre!”_

 

Everyone in the Three Broomsticks except Severus shouted, “ _McIntyre!_ ”

 

McInnis grinned and sang, “And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk when the Old Dun Cow caught fire.”

 

The whistling and stomping of feet that accompanied the round of applause for the song was a trifle overboard, but Severus agreed that the song was well sung.  The next song, performed by one the part-time barmaids, was not. “Call me Maisie” shrieked the Celestina Warbeck tune as if it were a Weird Sister’s anthem. Everyone chuckled and applauded her efforts anyway.

 

As one villager after another got up to perform, it became apparent that the worse someone sang, the more the audience enjoyed it. The phenomenon struck Severus as a benign form of the German term _shadenfreude_ , pleasure derived from another’s misfortune.

 

“Enjoying the music?” Rosmerta asked when she stopped by his table to see if he was still nursing the drink she’d poured hours ago.

 

“No.”

 

“There’s Firewhiskey still in that glass,” she said.

 

“I’m not _nursing it._ I’ve had enough.”

 

It was midnight. Time to return to the castle.

 

 

The moment he saw Slinky sitting on a stool in front of Lorelei’s quarters, Severus locked away his feelings of alarm and worry. Such emotions would not serve him now. “Explain your presence,” he told the elf. The space on the wall where the portrait of the Siren and her lover once hung was blank stone. “What happened to the guardian painting?”

“The caretaker takes the painting away after Slinky is told not to let anyone enter Professor Lorelei’s chambers.”

 

“Where is Lorelei?”

 

“Slinky is not supposed to say she is in the Headmaster’s office.”

 

“Is she . . . unharmed?”

 

The elf nodded as he said, “Slinky is ordered not to talk about Professor Lorelei to anyone.”

 

Severus approached his own guardian painting. “What did you see?”

 

Isolde rushed to the foreground. “The Siren’s lover gave Professor Smalley the password, he went inside, and then the Headmaster and another lady went inside, and then they came away with Professor Lorelei.”

 

“Professor Smalley did not come away with the others?”

 

“No, Professor Snape.”

 

One glance at Slinky’s mournful face told him Smalley was dead.

 

Severus fought down the urge to run back down the corridor. He had to remain composed. He had to act, not react. He refused to believe that Lorelei could be compelled to harm Smalley. Therefore, Smalley had done himself harm. Severus would go to Dumbledore’s office, learn the details of what had happened, and respond accordingly.

 

When he reached the main corridor, a voice behind him said, “Just the man I wanted to see.”

 

Severus turned to see Lucius Malfoy walking toward him, his cane tucked under his arm as if he was strolling down Diagon Alley and might need to shoo urchins away from attempting to sell him trinkets or shine his shoes.  “I confess my surprise to find you visiting the school at this hour, Lucius.”

 

“As a Governor of Hogwarts, I felt it my duty to come.”

 

“To oversee the children leaving on holiday?” Severus asked.

 

An exaggerated look of concern crossed Lucius’s face. “Do you not know what has happened?”

 

“I have just returned from the village.”

 

“Not drinking alone, I hope.”

 

Severus said, “The entire village saw me there. The Three Broomsticks now has singing to pre-recorded music.”

 

“Sounds dreadful.” Lucius smirked, and then assumed an expression of mock-sorrow. “Almost as dreadful as the misfortune that has befallen Professor Smalley.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“He killed himself in the chambers of the Siren who spurned his affections.”  Lucius’s eyes glittered with malicious enjoyment. “The Lorelei lured another sailor to drown himself in the river . . . or in this case, drink poison.”

 

The Valentine’s song mentioned a man wanting to drown himself in the river. Had Willoughby or another Slytherin owled his father about the song, or had the Knights of Walpurgis paid the dwarf to sing that particular tune? Severus asked, “Why do you refer to Professor Lorelei in such a way?”

 

“She’s part Siren, which she did _not_ state on her teaching application.” Lucius shook his head. “If only the board of governors had known. This unfortunate incident might never have occurred.”  He smiled. “But I will ensure it never happens again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	20. The Aftermath

 

A man walked out of the Floo in Dumbledore's office. Lorelei had never seen an Auror before, but the toughness the wizard exuded with his sharp gaze and confident stance in his brown trench coat sent the signal to her brain before he displayed a badge and said, "Rufus Scrimgeour, Senior Investigating Auror." He stepped forward and the next Auror arrived. This one wore a similar brown trench coat, and sported a small hoop earring that shined golden against his dark skin. More Aurors followed. Six in all, along with a witch and two wizards dressed in white protective overalls. The witch held a camera and sketchpad. The men in overalls carried box-like cases.

Scrimgeour introduced his team briefly and said, "My men and I will set up interview rooms in the dungeons while forensic personnel document the crime scene and recover evidence." He nodded to one of the men in overalls. "Bloefeld is a certified pathologist."

Lorelei said, "Alaric was killed instantly by a poison that contained no hydrocarbons. There was no sign of burns."

Bloefeld tilted his head in birdlike interest. "Any necrosis?"

"We will determine the cause of death without your input, professor," Scrimgeour said. "Shacklebolt and Crantz will escort you to the Ministry to take your statement." He held out his hand. "I must ask for your wand and that of the deceased."

Dumbledore stepped between Scrimgeour and Lorelei. "Here is Professor Smalley's wand, but there is no need to test Professor Lorelei's. I have ascertained that she only cast a Vanishing Spell and Help Summoning Charm in her attempt to save his life. I will arrange a viewing of her memories in my Pensieve."

"No," Lorelei said.

Dumbledore told her. "He must see what happened when Alaric entered your rooms, my dear."

The memories of Alaric, not the memory of Severus kissing her goodbye. She said, "All right, but why do I have to go to the Ministry? Why can't they take my statement here? They're setting up interview rooms."

Scrimgeour said, "Everyone on staff will be interviewed as a possible witness."

"I'm the eyewitness," Lorelei shot back. "I was there."

Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, Scrimgeour regarded her coolly. "You are also the prime suspect, and it is within my jurisdiction to bring you to the Ministry for questioning."

If they took her to the Ministry they'd take her wand. Use  _Prior Incantato_  to discover all the spells she'd cast. The Compulsion Charms on Alaric. The spells she'd used on musicians while working undercover. What if Vaughn claimed to only know her socially? She could end up in Azkaban without trial like Sirius Black.

Lorelei turned toward the window and slipped her hand into her pocket to wrap her fingers around her wand. She closed her eyes and silently chanted, " _Mitto_ " to send.

A whistling sound rent the air.

"You've done something untrustworthy, professor," Scrimgeour said.

"You haven't earned my trust." She started to take her hand out of her pocket.

Scrimgeour's voice rang out. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. And yet she could see straight ahead and hear Scrimgeour order the Auror with the earring—Shacklebolt—to search her. He did so with brisk, impersonal thoroughness.

"Nothing," Shacklebolt said in his deep voice. "I think she got rid of her wand."

"Headmaster?" Scrimgeour snapped.

"I certainly do not have it," Dumbledore replied.

"You let me assume—" Scrimgeour broke off, exhaled heavily, and told Shacklebolt, "Use a Featherlight Charm, and don't counter the Body Bind until she's in the interview room."

"Crantz always wanted a blow up doll," one of the Aurors said.

"Shows what you know. This gentleman prefers blondes," Crantz replied.

"Enough!" Scrimgeour said in a steely roar. "I expect professionalism at all times. We have a job to do here. Get moving!"

Lorelei heard the sound of footsteps, and then Madam Pomfrey's voice saying, "I didn't want to interrupt, but I think I should go be interviewed."

"Yes, Poppy, you should do that," Dumbledore said. When the raspy sound of her slippers dragging against stone faded, he asked, "Would you like me to cast the Featherlight Charm, Auror Shacklebolt?"

"Kingsley, please," Shacklebolt said. "Hearing any other name when I'm standing in the Headmaster's office is too strange. And yes, sir. I'd consider it an honour."

Crantz snickered and muttered, "Toady."

Dumbledore said, "Ah, Mr. Crantz. I remember the time you and Gil Stern were called to my office for attempting to fake your own deaths."

Crantz said sheepishly, "It's Ron, and, erm, yeah, it'd be an honour, sir."

Dumbledore cast the spell and said, "I will send word to Professor Lorelei's mother. Where shall I say you are taking her daughter?"

"We use the MLE interview rooms," Crantz said. "Magical Law Enforcement has a visitors' information desk."

Shacklebolt picked her up as if she were a cardboard cut-out. "Thank you for your help, Headmaster. Throw some Floo powder, Crantz."

Images blurred together: a glimpse of Dumbledore's robes, a flash of a silver instrument on a table, spinning and puffing out smoke, a brief view of the fireplace, then an abrupt change to another fireplace and a view of a mahogany desk.

"Scrimgeour acts like he's the Head of the Auror Department, using the Floo in Robards's office any time he likes," Crantz said.

"Maybe he knows something you don't," Shacklebolt replied.

Cubicle walls, openings, double doors, corridors, more doors, more corridors, and finally they reached their destination. She faced a mirror hung on a cement block wall beside the door. The room smelled of sweat and a more acrid scent: Fear. Cold metal clamped around her wrist.

"All our visitors get special bracelets so they can't perform wandless magic," Crantz said.

Shacklebolt cast a Counter Charm. "Have a seat, professor."

Three chairs, no table. She moved faster than the heavyset Crantz and sat in the chair that presented a view of the back of her head to whoever watched on the other side of the observation mirror. He sat in the chair slightly to her right. Shacklebolt lounged in the chair slightly to her left. He took a Recordbrall out of his pocket. "This interview is being recorded."

She could almost hear Piper say  _If you ever get nicked, remember that if they had enough evidence there wouldn't be an interview._  At the time, he'd thought she was a singer who would face charges with the rest of the group for misusing magic to attract bigger audiences to their concerts.

After stating the time, date, location of the interview, his name, and that Auror Ron Crantz was also present, Shacklebolt asked her name, date of birth and current address. Once she complied, he asked, "What is your full name?"

"Lorelei."

"What? You don't have a father?" Crantz asked. "You were hatched?"

She continued to sit with the backs of her hands resting on her thighs. She looked at the floor. "No comment."

"Or maybe you were spawned like a fish," Crantz said.

As insults went, his were mild compared to some of the things MLE officers had called Piper when he'd been pulled in on suspicion of one petty crime or another, mostly due to mistaken identity, because to some wizards all Goblins looked alike. He'd told her:  _No matter what they say to you, the bastards can't force you to speak._

Lorelei asked, "When may I contact a solicitor?"

Crantz said to Shacklebolt, "Knows all the moves, this one. My gut tells me she's got a MLE record." He raised his voice. "Somebody dig up her record!"

Shacklebolt said, "We can keep you here until you talk to us, professor, or you can explain to us what happened and go."

She lifted her gaze to his face. He seemed decent, but that was part of the strategy to make her talk and hopefully incriminate herself. She said, "My memories will explain what happened to me. Finding out what happened to Alaric is your job."

"Alaric, is it?" Crantz asked. "Were you lovers?"

"No."

"So you led him on until he killed himself, then?"

Crantz had spoken, but she addressed Shacklebolt. "Alaric was Imperiused to drink poison. It was murder, not suicide."

He nodded thoughtfully and then asked, "Is that why you got rid of your wand? He kept after you, maybe threatened you, so you Imperiused him?"

Shacklebolt made it sound like a reasonable thing to do, like he understood, so why not confess? If Piper was there, he'd give her a look that said,  _See? Told you they were all bastards. Aurors don't get promotions unless they send people to Azkaban._

She returned her gaze to the floor and said, "No comment."

Crantz threatened to put her in a cell until she talked, said he'd drag her mother into an interrogation room, and told her he'd dealt with rich witches like her who thought they could get away with murder: all without raising his voice.  _So you can't claim oppression_ , Piper would say.

Shacklebolt reminded her that while she was refusing to comment, Dark wizards were hurting innocent people, implying Lorelei was to blame because he and Crantz could have stopped them if they weren't wasting time with her. He then switched tactics, informing her that it would have an adverse effect on her defence if she tried to bring up facts during trial that could have been stated during this interview.

The door opened and Cousin Ursula swept in. She managed to project icy authority in a black evening gown. "This interview is over." She thrust a document at Crantz. "Here is a copy of the release paperwork signed by Auror Robards." Ursula turned to Shacklebolt. "Uncuff my client, Shackledolt."

He removed the cuff from Lorelei's wrist. "Keep mispronouncing my name, Ursula, and I'll start thinking you fancy me."

Ursula winked at Lorelei. " _Start_  thinking? See why he's a dolt?"

They left the interview room.

Crantz called after them, "Hey, Ursula, I'm single and I like blondes."

 

"I specialise in corporate law, but I do pro bono work," Ursula said as they walked out of the Ministry. "Knocking Aurors down a peg is always worthwhile, even when they aren't tall, dark, and sexy."

"I'm sorry for interrupting your evening."

Ursula waved her apology away. "Gilderoy Lockhart was a total bore. He managed to turn a fundraising ball for a children's charity into a press conference for his latest book. I went along to his place for the after party, but I didn't intend to stay over. He'd probably use a Memory Charm to make me think he was the best I'd ever had."

_There's no Golden Boys tour with Lockhart._

"How is Mum doing?" Lorelei asked.

"Not bad, thanks to Jean-Luc. He sent his Patronus to me straight away." Ursula held out her arm. "Your hands are shaking. I'll do Side-Along Apparation."

Reaction was setting in. Lorelei held on tight.

 

Severus didn't ask how Lucius would ensure that an "incident" like Smalley's death would never happen again. Lucius would reveal it in his own time. At school, he'd told his cronies,  _Snape as a first-year has more self-control than you lot. You don't hear him whinging like a girl for news of the Dark Lord._  The praise had taught him what Lucius Malfoy valued: the appearance of deference and servility.

On their way to the Headmaster's office, Lucius said, "I've seen Professor Lorelei's mother at different society charity events. What's the daughter like?"

Severus had expected Lucius to use Legilimency and presented recollections of her as an attractive, yet uninteresting colleague.

Lucius said, "You found her attractive. Does that mean you broke your vow to never again use Legilimency to manipulate a woman's emotions to get her into bed? The Dark Lord was so amused that you alone did not consider that test of skill a pleasure."

"I don't consider rape pleasure." He had followed orders, used Legilimency to manipulate the wife of a Ministry official away on business to invite him home with her, but once there, he had used a Sleeping Charm to put her into bed and steal the Dark object his master had coveted.

"Snape the asexual." Lucius smirked. "Bellatrix had a way with nicknames."

"I'm sure the Dementors and Azkaban guards are enjoying theirs," Severus replied.

Lucius chuckled until he saw the group of Aurors walking toward them. He stepped forward to meet them on the third floor landing. "I'm Lucius Malfoy, Board of Governors. Thank you for your swift arrival. I trust that this unfortunate matter can be resolved quickly and discreetly for the children's sake."

The lead Auror said, "Rufus Scrimgeour, Senior Investigating Auror. My team will be as discreet as possible, but we will remain at Hogwarts to investigate Professor Smalley's death for as long as I deem necessary."

"Death?" Lucius asked. "Don't you mean suicide?"

"Cause of death has yet to be determined." Scrimgeour continued down the staircase with his team following in his wake.

"Do you smell that?" Lucius asked. "It's the stench of self-righteousness. Quite offensive."

"Indeed." Scrimgeour's calculating gaze had flickered from Lucius to Severus, instantly conveying recognition and condemnation:  _Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater._

Lucius stalked upstairs, opening the door to the Headmaster's office without knocking.

"Come in, Lucius," Dumbledore said without a trace of irony.

Lorelei was nowhere to be seen. Severus glanced toward the bookcases concealing the sitting area.

"Auror Scrimgeour decided Professor Lorelei's interview was best conducted at the Ministry," Dumbledore said. He looked at Lucius. "That is why you're here, to express the Board's concern?"

Lucius withdrew an envelope from a robe pocket. "I'm here to notify you of the Board's decision to terminate Lorelei's contract effective immediately."

Severus said, "Professor Lorelei—"

"Was more of a child minder than a professor, only teaching lower level classes. Such a position should never have been offered. Especially not to a woman with Siren blood."

"What does that have to do with teaching qualifications?" Dumbledore asked.

Lucius drew himself up stiffly. "My son will be attending this school, and I will not allow Draco or any other child to be influenced by such a creature. What would you inflict upon them next? Vampires? Werewolves?" He tossed the envelope onto the Headmaster's desk. "The Board's decision is final." He left by the office Floo.

Severus stood anchored in place, weighted down by the realisation that Lorelei would not return. "What about her Ministry connections?"

"They will not go against the Board of Governors. Not after Professor Smalley's death."

_Not after parents started complaining and writing the Daily Prophet._

"I would help her if it were in my power to do so," Dumbledore said.

Severus left. There was nothing to say.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron Crantz and Gil Stern are inspired, of course, by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Gawain Robards was the Head of Aurors before Scrimgeour, so Rufus does indeed know something Crantz doesn't know. Ursula's comment about Gilderoy is something that makes him creepy as well as silly, but if he'd use Memory Charms to steal stories for his books, what else would he use them for? Hope Lucius's "What will you inflict on them next? Vampires? Werewolves?" made you smile, however wryly. Anyone interested in the nickname Bella gave a Dementor in Azkaban can read my one shot The Road to Delphi. ;)


	21. The Inquiry

 

Dumbledore's words replayed in Severus's mind again and again.  _I would help her if it were in my power to do so._  Why wasn't it in his power? Why couldn't the Headmaster tell the Board of Governors that they might sack a teacher, but they couldn't force her to leave the castle? By the time he reached the dungeon corridor, Severus had managed to put a mental barrier around his frustration and anger. It didn't leave him with a sense of calm acceptance. He wanted to make someone pay.

The portly Auror standing guard was a possible target. The man said, "Official personnel only."

"I am Head of Slytherin House, and I am officially returning to my quarters." The Auror's Occlumency skills were almost non-existent. Severus could plant any idea he liked in the man's head and he would claim it as his own.

" _Stern!_  Let Professor Snape through," Scrimgeour called from the entrance to Dungeon Six. When Severus neared, he said, "We chose six and seven as the dungeons furthest away from the children."

"How thoughtful," Severus said, in a tone that declared the opposite: Scrimgeour had chosen them for convenience. Dungeon Six had stood empty for decades. He saw that the Aurors had brought in a worktable and three chairs. A craggy-faced Auror sat at the table pretending to read over a file. His act wasn't convincing. Eagerness to verbally batter a confession out of someone oozed off the man like corrosive spittle from a flesh-eating slug. Severus chose the seat across from him.

"Auror Dawlish, start recording the interview," Scrimgeour said.

As the Recordbrall spun, Severus answered preliminary questions, aware that Scrimgeour was attempting to gain access to his thoughts, feelings and memories about Lorelei. He allowed the Auror to glimpse exactly what he wanted him to see, partial images that corroborated his statement that Lorelei was a colleague valued because she took his most onerous classes off his hands. She appeared on friendly terms with Professors Sprout, Trelawney, Vector and Hagrid the groundskeeper. Smalley had tried to win her affection, and she had politely refused his overtures.

He accounted for his whereabouts the previous evening, when he had left the castle, who could verify his presence at The Three Broomsticks, and when he had returned from Hogsmeade.

Scrimgeour said, "You didn't include your name as someone on friendly terms with Professor Lorelei."

"That is correct."

"Didn't you like her?"

A skilful Occlumens could lie without detection. "I neither liked nor disliked her. I have colleagues, not friends."

"And yet the elf told us that when you returned, you went straight to him instead of entering your quarters."

"Rushed right over," Dawlish said.

"I asked him to explain his presence."

"And then you ran straight to Dumbledore," Dawlish taunted.

"I went to speak with the Headmaster."

Scrimgeour said, " _Propinquity_ , Snape. Are you familiar with the term?"

"The definition."

"It's more than proximity," Scrimgeour said. "It's the closeness that develops between two people when they work together  _day after day_  and live in close quarters, seeing each other  _night after night_  until the temptation to  _act_  on that closeness becomes too much to resist. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Severus slid his gaze from one Auror to the other as if making a connection between the speech and the men facing him. "I have no interest in your workplace romance."

Dawlish lunged scarlet-faced across the table. Severus allowed the Auror's swinging fist to make contact with his nose. Blood poured down his chin.

Scrimgeour barked, "Dawlish, stand down!"

Severus silently chanted, " _Episkey_ ," and rose to his feet. "This interview is over."

In his quarters, a shower removed the metallic taste and smell of blood. He went into his bedroom to change. Lorelei's wand was on his pillow. He threw on clothes and called, "Slinky!"

The house-elf appeared. "Yes, Professor Snape?"

Severus showed him the wand. "Did Professor Lorelei ask you to give this to me?"

Slinky shook his head.

She must have sent it to him to keep it out of Auror hands. "I will hide it, and you will answer to anyone who asks that you do know where her wand is."

"Yes, Professor Snape." The elf Disapparated and returned with a bundle in his arms. "And Slinky will not know where her cloak is either." He ducked his head. "And Slinky will not tell anyone that before he gave Professor Lorelei clothes, he used magic to clean her bedding."

_Her bedding_. Severus hadn't thought—hadn't considered. They would have found evidence of sexual activity and assumed the worst. Slinky's loyalty was beyond anything he deserved. "Thank you."

The tips of Slinky's ears reddened. He Disapparated.

Severus held the cloak and traced the words on the brooch with his fingertips before hiding it and the wand in his laboratory. He ate breakfast in the Great Hall to gauge whether or not students were aware that something had happened during the night. A group of seventh-year Slytherin boys knew. It showed in their sly grins and barely contained excitement. He left before they finished eating in order to intercept one particular boy in the main corridor as he returned to Slytherin House. "Give your father my regards, Gibbon."

Gibbon refused to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir, my father's out of the country on business. He won't return for another fortnight."

"Then send my regards in a letter," Severus said. "I'm sure you have  _much_  to tell him."

Gibbon's eyes flickered upward for an instant. That was all Severus needed to see the boy reading a message from his father that said he and his son would prove their family's loyalty. Gibbon mumbled, "Yes, sir," and scurried away, leaving Severus with the image of the letter burning to ash in the common room fireplace.

Once students climbed into carriages headed for the train station, those who remained at school were informed of Professor Smalley's death by their Heads of House. The dungeon corridor was declared off limits, and until the Aurors completed their investigation, all letters and packages sent to or from the owlery would be logged by Filch, who bragged that he was a deputy Auror. Severus had no Slytherin students in his care, so he inventoried his potions stores and wrote up an order to send to the supplier. He found Filch dozing in the owlery.

"Good afternoon," Severus said quietly. Filch stared at him, half-asleep. Severus lifted the image of Filch storing the Siren painting in the attic and handed him the order packet.

"Right," Filch said, blinking. "I'll enter this into the logbook and send it off, professor."

Severus made his way to the attics. Hundreds of years' worth of cast off furniture, paintings, trunks of clothes, and various, once-precious trinkets crammed the space. No trace of dust or musty odour lingered. House-elves kept the attics clean. He followed a serpentine path through the clutter to reach the painting. The expression on the face of the man reaching up his hand begged forgiveness. The Siren turned her back on her lover. Severus said, "You betrayed your duty."

The painted Siren shrieked and dove into the water.

"I did it. Punish me," the man said.

"I'd rather give you an opportunity to make restitution," Severus replied. "Others may ask questions about Professor Lorelei and her visitors."

The Siren popped her head up out of the water. "Guardian paintings swear loyalty to those in their charge. We will say nothing."

Her lover asked, "What if they threaten you?"

Severus took out his wand. "Spells will protect the canvas against chemicals, water, and fire."

The Siren and her lover embraced. The man said, "I will say nothing!"

Severus returned to the dungeons and heard a woman shout, "You bloody well had to see  _something!_ "

He hurried to his quarters. "Guardian paintings guard, Pomona. They do not monitor comings and goings like Filch."

She turned toward him, fists clenched. "Mine does."

"Because of your interest in such things, I presume," he replied. "Guardian paintings are also loyal to those they guard."

"What does that mean?"

In the painting, Isolde said, "It means you should save your breath to cool your porridge."

Sprout said, "I wasn't talking to you, hussy."

Down the corridor, an Auror stuck his head out of a dungeon.

Severus said, "Let us speak in private."

Sprout laughed shortly. "Why not? They already accused me of hiring a Hit Wizard in revenge for Alaric cheating with every witch and ghost. Now they can think I paid you to do it." She stomped into his lounge and glanced around. "Two chairs. Huh. Never took you as the type for wanting company."

"They came with the table," he lied.

She paced the rug instead of sitting down. "Your painting knows something."

He repeated what Isolde had told him.

"Alaric didn't come away." Sprout's voice was thick. Her eyes shined. She asked, "If he killed himself, why did Lorelei claim that he was murdered?"

_Because he was Imperiused, likely by Gibbon's father, a Death Eater who chose not to search for Voldemort and wants to curry favour with the Knights of Walpurgis._  "Would you want to believe that a man committed suicide because you spurned his affections?"

"No." She wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "I have students to check on. Thank you, Severus."

He poured himself a Firewhiskey when she had gone. It was the only way he could swallow being thanked when he had done nothing to save a man's life.

Gawain Robards sent a message ordering the Auror team to conclude their inquiry by the following afternoon. Filch delivered the letter and reported to any who would listen that Scrimgeour's rage had been fearsome to behold. "Blistered my ears cursing Lucius Malfoy and that interfering Board of Governors, he did," Filch said.

Dinner in the Great Hall that night had an appropriately funereal sombreness. The Aurors huddled in a pack at a one end and the staff grouped at the other with wide-eyed students acting as a buffer in the middle. Scrimgeour rose from the table when Severus did and trailed him into the staff corridor.

"I have a question for you, professor. My forensic team found Lorelei's bed to be suspiciously immaculate. No hairs or fibres. No stains of any kind. How do you suppose that happened?"

"I am a Potions Master, not a forensic technician." Severus wordlessly cast a Shield Charm before turning his back on the Auror.

Scrimgeour said, "We also failed to locate the manuscript Smalley was working on or any correspondence about a book deal. How did all that disappear?"

The most likely scenario was that he had given the manuscript to Gibbon, believing the man to be his publisher, while Gibbon Junior used Polyjuice to enter Smalley's rooms and burn his correspondence. Severus kept walking as he replied, "Perhaps it never existed."

Sleep that night was accomplished only after he blocked out all thoughts and emotions. The next day he experimented with dragons' blood to endure the interminable wait. After lunch, the need to discover whether Dumbledore had news of Lorelei brought him to the Headmaster's office.

Scrimgeour and his team were preparing to leave.

"Going so soon?" Severus asked.

The Senior Investigating Auror's smile was a predatory display of bared teeth. "Don't you worry, Snape. I'll be back for you one day."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make your partner jealous?"

It took two Aurors to wrestle Dawlish into the fireplace while another threw Floo powder.

"You never could resist taunting your enemies," Dumbledore said after the Aurors departed. He cast a spell to disconnect his fireplace from the Floo Network. "Ah, well, I cannot resist sherbet lemons. We all have our weaknesses."

Severus said, "You contacted Marina. Did she reply?"

"Lorelei is home, surrounded by her family."

"Do you believe Aurors will monitor her post?" Would his letter be intercepted?

Dumbledore stroked his beard as if it aided thought. He said, "Officially, no, they will not. Unofficially, I believe you pulled a lion's tail and he will remain on the prowl until the sting fades." He gestured towards the visitor's chair and settled himself behind his desk. "We must discuss school matters. You will resume teaching all Potions classes, Binns will take History of Magic, and I will teach Study of Ancient Runes for the rest of the term. A familiar face will help students adjust to their loss."

Severus didn't doubt that Albus Dumbledore could teach any subject. "What will you tell the parents?"

"I'm sending letters to each family expressing my sadness over the loss of Professor Smalley and my regret that Professor Lorelei had to give up her teaching position." He looked at Severus over the edge of his glasses. "I regret it very much."

Severus asked to be excused. No amount of platitudes would make the situation tolerable. He headed to Lorelei's quarters.

They were gone.

The door, gone, the lighter patch where the guardian painting had hung no longer visible: only an unbroken expanse of wall appeared on that side of the corridor. He entered his lounge and called for Slinky. The house-elf stepped out of the fireplace, his green eyes watery with tears. His hands clenched a book.

Severus asked, "When?"

"Aurors tell Slinky to pack while they is watching, and then Slinky must send Professor Lorelei's things to her home." The elf held out the book. "Slinky finds this behind the bed table when he is sending furniture to the attic."

The book was her latest Gothic romance,  _The Mask of the Enchantress_. The cover showed a couple in profile; the man behind the woman, bending down to kiss the nape of her neck.

Severus placed it in the wall compartment with her wand and cloak.

 

 

Lorelei loved her family for all their support. Marina had used her society connections and generous donations to the Auror Widows and Orphans Fund to help persuade Gawain Robards to authorise her daughter's release from custody. When the letter from the Hogwarts Board of Governors arrived, Ursula offered to file a charge of discrimination. Even the little scamp Glaucus tried to help in his own way. He gave her his last Whizzing Worm. Lorelei appreciated everything they did for her. She just wished they would all leave her alone.

She didn't want to think about the future or talk to a Psychiatric Healer. She didn't want to eat comfort food or have a spa day with Cousin Ariel. She wanted to sleep for as many hours as possible until the owl post delivered a letter from Severus.

And then her trunks arrived from Hogwarts. As if sleeping alone in her room wasn't depressing enough, now she had to step around visible reminders of what she'd lost.

She went to see Piper.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be the last chapter until I started writing and discovered that chapter 22 is the actual last chapter. Delayed gratification. It's a good thing, right? I enjoyed using references to Dumbledore allowing Trelawney to stay at school after being let go, Severus not being able to resist taunting his enemies and Remus telling Harry that he neither liked nor disliked Severus. "I'm a Potions Master, not a forensic technician" reminded me of Karl Urban's characterization of Bones (I'm a doctor, not a physicist) in the reboot Star Trek films. Appealingly snarky. :)


	22. The Underworld

 

She knocked on Piper's door using the tap code Goblins had invented in Azkaban after the 1754-1763 rebellion. She rapped three times, and then after a pause, tapped once more: the code for "L."

"Good, it's you," Piper said when he opened the door. He wore a dressing gown and gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "I was asleep and only heard the last knock. I thought you might be Ian, wanting to crash on my sofa again. He does that every time Mairi talks about weddings. Come on in." He stretched as he ambled through the lounge cluttered with lager bottles, musical instruments and piles of sheet music. "Stayed up all night writing songs with Ian and Sticks." He flexed his long fingers. "I did most of the writing. Ian did most of the drinking."

"Is he still here?"

"Nah. Sticks took him home." The smell of fried potatoes and beef was stronger in the kitchen. Piper put a kettle on and gestured to the skillet on the oak table piled with bowls and an assortment of tea mugs and cider and lager bottles. "Sticks made beef hash. There's some left if you're hungry."

She brushed a crusted bit of potato off a chair and sat down. "How long has it been left out?"

He squinted at the clock on the wall. "Too long." The hash vanished out of the skillet. "Want a three minute egg and toast fingers?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am, and I hate to eat alone."

He ran the tap for water to cover eggs in a saucepan and to fill a teakettle. One the kettle whistled, he poured boiling water over teabags in mugs. "Don't judge. I used up the loose leaf blend you sent me." When she didn't smile, he said, "You aren't very cheery for someone on holiday. Missing those wizard brats?" His playful tone sharpened. "What's wrong?"

The effort to hold back tears was too much. She buried her face in her hands. "Everything," she said. "Everything is wrong!"

"Ah, mate, don't start leaking." He patted her on the back and then gave her a hug. "Nobody died, did they?"

She lowered her hands. With her sitting down and Piper standing, they were on eye level. His dark eyes rounded. "Who was it?"

Lorelei told him what had happened; stopping only to wipe her eyes or sip the tea Piper said would put hair on her chest, if she wanted any, because who knew with humans.

Piper grinned when she smiled a little. "That's better."

He served the eggs in silver eggcups that perched on chicken feet. She used a Toasting Charm on the bread, which he sliced into fingers for dipping. While he ate, she shared the story of her chocolate egg tree and the Gryffindor first-years slinging caramel.

"Wizard brats," Piper said, chuckling.

"They're not brats, they're high-spirited. I do miss them." She gave him her egg since she really wasn't hungry.

He took it and cracked the shell with his spoon. "Is there someone else you miss? I saw you walk off with a mysterious cloaked wizard at the Fire Festival."

Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Don't go making my toast soggy," Piper said, shaking a finger of toast at her. "You came here for more than sympathy. What's the plan?"

He knew her so well. "I need to return to Hogsmeade, but I can't book a room at an inn. I can't be seen."

His ears twitched: a sign of Goblin interest. "How do I help?"

She said, "Do you remember how we talked about the best places to caravan?"

The MacInnis Farm Caravan and Camping Park was highly rated in the Goblin's Guide to Scotland. Piper arranged the booking and they Flooed to Inverness and then Fort William, the largest town in the Highlands. Piper performed the Goblin version of Side-Along Apparation to bring her to Goldgarry, a Goblin village. Piper's aunt and uncle, a kindly white-haired couple, invited them to stay for dinner. As they entered the cottage, Lorelei heard them speaking Gobbledegook in low voices.

"Where's the rest of the band?" Uncle Lug asked as they ate Shepherd's pie.

"In London," Piper said.

"So they'll be joining you?" Aunt Hilde asked.

"Not unless Mairi kicks Ian out and he can't break into my place."

Piper was the only Goblin smiling. Lorelei told his aunt, "The pie is delicious. How did you make this lovely pattern on the top of the potatoes?"

"With the back of a fork."

Uncle Lug said, "I know you musicians are . . . _different_. . . from regular folk, but there are still consequences to your actions."

"What are you on about?" Piper asked.

Aunt Hilde said something in Gobbledegook. Her peachy skin flushed.

Uncle Lug's Gobbledegook sounded like a parental lecture. Lorelei understood two words: Filius Flitwick.

Piper's facial expressions shifted from disbelief to amusement to anger and then a mix of all three. He raised a hand like he was taking an oath, rattled off a string of Gobbledegook, and then said in English, "Thank you for your trust and support. I'll return the caravan tomorrow evening."

Lorelei followed his lead and pushed back her chair. "Yes, thank you very much. I'm so glad Piper brought me here to meet you."

Aunt Hilde and Uncle Lug stared at her like she was a Boggart.

Piper said, "Let's go."

She said goodbye to his aunt and uncle and followed him to the Goblin Caravan that looked like a Muggle Gypsy Wagon painted mint green. The pony set to pull the wagon tossed his ebony mane when she asked if the wagon was too heavy.

Piper said, "Imp is part Kelpie. He can pull a wagon and still outrun the Knight Bus if he takes a mind to do it."

They climbed into the wagon and sat on upholstered benches across from each other after shutting the double doors. "Don't we want to look out?" Lorelei asked.

"Not unless you want to see my Aunt's lovely potatoes again. Scenery zooming by makes most people lurgy." Piper leaned toward the door and called out, "McInnis farm outside Hogsmeade, Imp." The pony neighed and the wagon jerked forward. Aside from the occasional bump or rattle of wheels, it was hard to believe they were moving. Lorelei glanced at the shuttered windows. "I wouldn't do it," Piper said.

After a few minutes of silence, he started laughing. "I can't believe I had to give a Goblin Pledge to borrow the caravan."

"A pledge to what, not scratch the paint?"

Piper held his sides as he laughed. "A pledge not to do anything that would create another Flitwick in the family!"

_ There are still consequences to your actions. _

Stars and stones! Aunt Hilde and Uncle Lug believed they were romantic partners! She cringed. "And I told them I was glad you'd brought me there to meet them."

"You were _so_ glad."

Lorelei snatched one of the silver and gold embroidered pillows off the bench and chucked it at him. "I didn't know they were dirty-minded!"

"It's all that filthy lucre Goblins deal in." He tossed the pillow back. "To be honest, I've always wanted a partner I could look up to, but it isn't in height. Hope you aren't gutted."

She grabbed the two other pillows on her bench, but before she could fling them, the caravan jerked to a halt.

"Told you Imp could run like hell," Piper said. He opened the doors to reveal darkness and rain. Steps magically appeared. "McInnis said there's a paddock and barn. I'll take care of Imp and go check in at the farmhouse." He patted his cloak pocket. "I'll have our host send this to the castle."

After he left, she cast a Disillusionment Charm and climbed up into the loft bed at the far end of the caravan to wait.

Sevrerus was in his quarters labouring to finish the biography of Libatius Borage when Slinky delivered the letter. "The owlery elf on duty says first the envelope is blank, and then it has Professor Snape's name on it."

Lorelei had used a variation of Concealing Charm to hide his name until the letter reached the castle. "Thank you." The moment he was alone, Severus tore the envelope to reach the letter. He read it, mouth curving, before using a Vanishing Charm. He retrieved his cloak and the hidden bundle.

Argus Filch stood in the Entry Hall with his cat, watching the rain through a window. He said, "It takes a powerful thirst to make a man go out in this weather."

"Yes." Severus cast a Water Repelling Charm and opened the door.

He found the green caravan parked in a field on the McInnis farm. He climbed inside, stooping a little to avoid banging his head on the low pine ceiling. The caravan appeared empty until he countered his Disillusionment Charm. The air blurred above the loft bed and then Lorelei appeared, rushing into his arms. She poured out what had happened, and he shared what Slinky had done for them and what Scrimgeour said about Smalley's manuscript.

"It had to exist," Lorelei said. "He was so happy. Someone must have Imperiused him to steal it."

"Or he was mentally unstable and appeared Imperiused because he obeyed a voice in his head." Lorelei had to stop claiming that Alaric Smalley was murdered. The Knights of Walpurgis would silence her if she didn't. Severus loathed himself for using her trust to subtly alter her memories, but it had to be done. She had to view Smalley as more than silly and vain. He had to appear delusional to the point of self-harm.

Lorelei frowned. "If a book gets published about runes predicting the rise and fall of someone—"

"It won't," Severus said.

The certainty in his voice brought tears to her eyes. She said, "I wanted him to leave me alone, and now he's gone forever."

Severus faced his own guilt and held her as she cried. After she dried her tears, he asked, "Where is your friend?"

"He went down to the pub with Robbie McInnis to sing Karaoke. Instead of singing with a band, they sing to music recorded on Orpheus Orbs." In response to his upraised brow, she said, "He promised to stay until the pub closed."

Severus's gaze drifted to the bed. "Then we can lie down?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm starting to get a crick."

She climbed up to the loft and stretched out on her side on the diamond-patterned quilt. "And I thought you were happy to see me."

The smile he'd missed was back in her eyes. He joined her on the bed and lowered his head to meet her seeking lips.

"I am happy to see you," he said once he'd demonstrated it to their mutual satisfaction. He tapped his toes against the caravan wall. "I feel like the ill-mannered child in that Muggle story."

"This bed is too small?" Lorelei lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes danced. "I'd say it's just right." She kissed him. "I want more than the occasional moment together. I want to see you every day, sleep with you every night. Be true partners. You have to find a way."

"The Board of Governors won't allow it."

"Dumbledore will, if you come up with a plan. I know he will." Lorelei's eyes blazed. Her next kiss filled him with heat. Her teeth nipped his earlobe. "The myths say Hades tricked Persephone into eating pomegranate seeds to force her return to the Underworld. I say she wanted to eat them, and would have eaten more if allowed. Four months a year is not enough." Her mouth returned to his, demanding, burning hot. "Say you'll find nine pomegranate seeds." 

The length of a school term. "I will."

He gave Lorelei her wand and cloak before he returned to Hogwarts, but she made him keep the book.

"Pomona is hurting too," Lorelei said. "It would cheer her if you read another Gothic romance to the Passionata tree. Even a single chapter. And it will cheer me as well."

Severus reluctantly agreed.

Two days later, he entered Sprout's greenhouse. The temperature was warm, but not oppressively so. The air smelled earthier than he remembered. Sprout was pouring a black liquid around the base of the Passionata tree. "Flobberworm tea, made with their castings, not Flobberworms," she said when his lip curled in distaste. His lip remained curled. She snorted in amusement. "Delicate stomach, have we?"

He lifted the book. "Shall I read this or not?"

"By all means. The Passionata tree is quivering in anticipation."

The scarlet heart-shaped leaves rustled. Severus sat in the chair he'd previously conjured. He looked down and observed that he was holding the novel with the back cover facing up. Out of idle curiosity, he read the words on the cover. And then he read them again.

** When tragedy strikes, it is to the Castle that Suewellyn must turn. And to become the mistress of Mateland she must wear the mask of the enchantress. **

Could it be that simple? Severus spun a web of ideas as he read aloud. When he finished, he went to the Headmaster's Office and told him his plan.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Why?"

So many questions in a word, a future hanging in the balance. Severus said, "Teaching here is my penance, the Underworld where I abide until the Titans return to challenge Olympus."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Once again you prove that a cynic is a disappointed romantic."

Severus plunged on. "Lorelei feels differently. Teaching is her calling. And a gifted teacher can teach any subject."

"More flattery, as if the implication that I am Zeus-like was not enough."

"I-I have sources that can forge documents and procure the amulet. Memory Charms will ensure they forget."

"And if I agree to this plan, what will you give me in return, Severus?"

Razor sharp memories flooded back. He'd promised to give anything to keep Lily safe. "You said you would help Lorelei if was within your power."

"And I will. Answer the question."

Severus said, "I've already vowed to live and die for you."

"Would you kill?"

Severus hesitated. In his youth he had been eager to rid the world of his enemies. Then he had watched others take lives. He had seen the creature the Dark Lord had become, experienced the pain of Lily's death. Could he slip poison into a cup? Use a Killing Curse? He decided to place yet more trust in Albus Dumbledore. "If you deem it necessary."

After a long moment, Dumbledore said, "I hope I never do."

Severus released his white-knuckled grip on the arms of his chair. He began to rise.

Dumbledore asked, "Did you ever consider that Zeus allowed Hades to carry off Persephone for a reason other than obligating him to serve for eternity?"

"No."

"Then perhaps you are only a cynic," Dumbledore said, "and I am the disappointed romantic."

_ Three months later . . . . _

Spinner's End in July was as cramped and rundown as it was every other month of the year, with a bonus of sweltering heat that taxed Cooling Charms and legions of flies that swarmed in from the polluted river nearby. When Lorelei entered the house and countered her Disillusionment Charm, her sundress clung damply to her body and perspiration beaded her face. Severus offered a cold drink and assistance washing her hair in the shower.

His childhood bed was narrow, and the springs squeaked so badly that Lorelei couldn't stop laughing. He cast a Silencing Charm on the mattress. As they lay entwined, he wondered why making love to Lorelei didn't feel like a betrayal of Lily. He glanced at the wardrobe that leaned against the wall. One of the doors wouldn't shut. The skirt of Lorelei's dress spilled out the way her hair spilled over his pillow, exactly as he'd once imagined. He had never had those kinds of thoughts about his best friend. His love for her had been pure. It always would be.

Lorelei sat up in bed. "Is it my imagination," she asked, "Or are flies actually attacking your window?"

"The glass has a Compulsion Charm on it. A remnant of my misspent youth."

She looked up at the stained ceiling. "I prefer your enchanted one at Hogwarts." She climbed out of bed and dressed. "This is part of my new wardrobe. Off the peg, but pretty in a classic way, don't you think?"

"Yes." If pale blue was classic.

"Don't smirk at me. Why do you think actors wear costumes? Clothes help you step into the role."

He held up his specially tailored wizard robes, the ones that Lorelei said made him resemble a malevolent bat. "Do tell."

She gaped. "You look tall, dark and daunting on purpose?" She laughed and said, "Of course you do, you're a Legilimens, and you don't want students giving you cheek."

"A goal I have yet to attain. Have you copied Smalley's lesson plans?"

"I've also read through the textbooks." She bit her lip. "I thought, if we were both disguised, we could look through the shops in Diagon Alley for a new set of runes. Maybe have dinner."

"To practice your new role before the term starts."

"And hold your hand in public." She hugged him when he nodded. "I'm so excited. When can I see my new face?"

He removed the necklace from his pocket. "Trolls use Appearance Amulets to work as security guards around Muggles. This will allow you to teach at Hogwarts." He slipped the Goblin-made silver chain over her head. He'd used a Shrinking Charm to turn the amatory brooch he'd given her into a pendant. "The chain is spelled against breakage and Summoning Charms."

She reached into her handbag for a compact mirror. "I have light brown hair and a fringe!" She assessed her reflection. "How old am I?"

"Your application states that you are thirty-five years old."

"Does it say I go for younger men?"

A Siren's smile on a demure, gently rounded face would take some getting used to. "I already have a partner."

"Yes, you do, and she expects your fireplaces to be connected so she can Floo directly to your quarters and not sneak around the castle." Lorelei put away the mirror. "I like this face. I look nice. I'll make my voice softer to match." She removed the necklace. "What's my name?"

"Dumbledore chose it."

"You're making me nervous," Lorelei said. "How bad is it?"

"He thought you would be more comfortable if your first and last name had the same initial."

"Like Severus Snape."

"Not quite."

Lorelei cast a Trip Jinx and pinned him to the bed. "Tell me."

"I wrote it on a slip of parchment. You'll find it in my right trouser pocket."

She slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of pomegranate seeds. Nine in all.

"I misspoke," he said. "It's the left pocket." She gave him a kiss for each seed and then reached into his other pocket. Severus knew the instant she read the name because she giggled.

Lorelei's eyes met his and she giggled again before asking, "Want to go to dinner with Bathsheda Babbling?"

****

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read the story and special thanks to those who gave kudos (or plans to give kudos—don't make me a disappointed romantic ^_~). I hope the ending was a surprise that made you think "I should have guessed!" or "I had a feeling that something like this might happen!" because the clues were there from the first chapter. :) In case anyone reading doesn't know all the Hogwarts staff off the top of their heads, Bathsheda Babbling was Hermione's Ancient Runes professor. She's one of those characters that are just a name since she was at Hogwarts, but Harry never took her class. I was happy to be able to make her the secret identity of a Gothic romance loving Persephone who would do anything to join her Hades in the Underworld.
> 
> I attributed the POW tap code to Goblins, put Flitwick in Piper's family tree, foreshadowed Severus being asked to kill Dumbledore in HBP and re-purposed the quote "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" and used "Anything" and "Always" from ch. 33 of DH. I don't think it goes against canon to say Severus always loved Lily with boyish purity.
> 
> The first time Severus read to the Passionata tree, I made up the book The Serpent's Lair, but The Mask of the Enchantress is an actual Gothic romance by Victoria Holt that tells the story of a woman who pretends to be her lookalike cousin to inherit the family castle, and the words that leapt out at Severus were actually printed on the back cover. When I mentioned Lorelei reading the book in ch 18, I took the chance that someone might have read it and would guess this story's ending. It was very Gothic. Will I be found out? I felt safer when Slinky gave the novel to Severus in ch 21. Only one chapter to go, after all. It's been years since I've read The Mask of the Enchantress, but the ending always stuck with me. The illegitimate (but plucky) heroine is unmasked and leaves the castle. She returns as the wife of the brooding second or third cousin who was the true heir and the housekeeper (who had always known she was an impostor and helped her) says, "After all your sins, you've come home." I think the sins are mostly Severus's in this story, but Lorelei feels the same as the Gothic heroine. She's come home.

**Author's Note:**

>   _I need somebody, somebody like you, everybody needs somebody . . . ._
> 
> The story title is the title of a song that was on the Top of the Pops list for 1988 when Severus began his seventh year of teaching at Hogwarts. It's sung by the Canadian singer Bryan Adams, who is talented but not a wizard (presumably). Since Harry thought Snape looked like a malevolent bat, I wondered if that might be one of the nicknames given to him by his students, and if so, he'd surely be aware of it. This story has been brewing for quite some time, so I hope frequent updates will equal happy readers. :)


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